Barely Socially Acceptable, Fairly Odd Parents-Present, Professional Auteurism / 21.08.2014

I talk to strangers in elevators. But not just to any stranger. I pick and choose, depending on the elevator, the mix of people, and, of course, if I have anything to say. Our time together is short and there must be some connection to our shared experience riding up or down. Not quite an elevator pitch, but a close relative. Timing is everything. It might be Monday morning. No eager beavers on Monday morning. "Thank God it's Friday," I might say. I'm often the warm up act for the week. And, if I'm lucky, I'll get a chuckle. Out of...

Barely Socially Acceptable / 07.05.2013

Private space, like the telephone booth, has become extinct. People now carry on their private lives as if they were on a public stage. And, most interestingly, they don't care who hears their phone conversations. This was the genesis of The Theatre of the Barely Socially Acceptable. You might enjoy past acts of drama, culled from Washington, DC's Metro and other street level amphitheaters. A hard day at the office, I had a half hour ride home on the Metro before I began my hard night at home (two teenagers, need I say more?). As the train went above ground,...

Barely Socially Acceptable, Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 15.05.2011

No Smoking

I thought the facts made me right. Image by spelio

As I stood in a long line at the ATM outside my bank I smelled smoke. It came and went and, after a while I started to look around for the smoker. At first, I couldn't spot him but finally noticed the man right in front of me was holding a cigarette behind his back as he conversed with the woman in front of him. When I was young I had a severe form of asthma with no help, I'm sure, from my parents' 1950s smoking habits. Luckily, I grew out of the disease. But to this day, I relive those years whenever as much as a simple chest cold impedes my breathing. So you can see why I don't like inhaling secondhand smoke. Rather than passively accepting my fate, I've started to be a little more proactive when it comes to this part of my health. I watched him for a while, assessing his approachability, but decided not to pursue it.

Yet, I really didn't want that smoke wafting in my face. I felt I was being held hostage in line. The next nearest bank branch was a few miles away and my lunchtime was almost up. And, yes, he was shorter than me and dressed in a business suit with no visible tattoos but you never know with smokers (okay, to be fair, you never know with anybody). I took a few steps back to catch my breath and consider my options. "Please don't say anything," I told myself. "Remember when you nicely asked a woman smoking just inches from a restaurant door to please move away? Don't do it." Suddenly I heard myself saying, "Excuse me, would you mind not smoking in line?" And with that I stepped over to the other side.

Barely Socially Acceptable, Fairly Odd Parents-Present / 12.12.2009

For the last year I've been getting email newsletters from the dealership where I bought my car. Although my Volkswagen is over nine years old the dealer wants to keep in touch with me. Naturally, they want to keep me loyal to their service department and, when it's time, entice me to buy a new car. I understand and appreciate this as part of good customer service. I like hearing about the new VWs and car safety. But the newsletter also clearly includes fluff pieces about new recipes, pushing one to try new experiences like skydiving and trapeze school,...

Barely Socially Acceptable / 14.07.2007

As she boarded the Orange Line train for the burbs she sat down and immediately opened her David's Bridal catalogue. Ever on the lookout for my next episode of The Theatre of the Barely Socially Acceptable, I surreptitiously observed her behind my iPod-induced playlist (always good camouflage). She quietly thumbed through the pages and I returned to India.Arie's I Am Not My Hair. Suddenly, above the beat: Hi, it's me. I'm looking at the bridal catalogue. Do you have it in front of you? Oh, I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it? Men. Well, ok. Now are you still set on brown...

Barely Socially Acceptable / 23.04.2007

Monday morning commutes, by almost unanimous vote, are reserved for quiet transitions from the weekend to the work week ahead. So when riding the subway this morning I and those around me were jarred by a gentleman bellowing into his mobile: Jim, we need to re-key the locks today. But I don't know if we should have one lock or two on the front door. And, if two, should they use the same key? He went on to discuss the merits of both with what must have been his contractor while the man next to me turned and said "It's always so...

Barely Socially Acceptable / 04.03.2007

I'd just run into Steny Hoyer, the Democratic Majority Leader, on the street the day before. Stealing a few extra creative minutes on my commute to work, I had pulled out my Moleskin to pen a few notes about the encounter before my stop. Along the way a man in his twenties entered the subway car, cell phone attached to his ear. He sat down in the empty seat next to me. Geez, you sound like you're having a friggin heart attack. I'm just calling you back to say "I love you." Yeah, you too. Bye. Without missing a beat I turned to...

Barely Socially Acceptable / 14.07.2006

Hot town, summer in the city Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty Been down, isn't it a pity Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city Summer in the City The Lovin' Spoonful It's turning out to be a typical Washington summer: hot and very humid. I know. Last night our air conditioning simply quit. No announcement; no nothing. One minute I was nice and comfy and the next my skin stopped breathing. I knew what was coming. As the evening wore on I could feel myself getting more and more uncomfortable. When it gets this hot it's torture and people say things...

Barely Socially Acceptable, Commuting with Nature / 24.02.2006

You can't hear me? I CAN HEAR YOU!Yes I can. Brenda, I am on the subway. I can't be doing that! When people make public spectacles of themselves I get embarrassed. Why me? Watching a scorned lover let her philanderer have it on the Jerry Springer Show immediately causes my hands to cover my eyes. I must protect myself and this is my instinctive automatic response. Hands to ears would be better but my body doesn't always listen to me. I could turn off the TV, but of course I don't. There is something visceral about open displays like this. Schadenfraude. ...

Barely Socially Acceptable, Commuting with Nature / 18.12.2005

Amber, this is Glenn I'm in the Metro on my way in I need an email to go out now! . An early morning snow had forced the federal government to open two hours late. The respite from AM bureaucracy did not prevent countless worker bees from their appointed tasks. Conference calls from home circumvented any disconnect Mother Nature could hand out. Workflow could not and would not be stopped by a mere three inch layer of slush. Subject line: "Update from Glenn" No, make that "Good news from Glenn" Yes, good news. I slowly reached for my notebook and pen while we waited for the next train....