I had Twitter for like two months and for someone who as ADD it was too much of a distraction. I think everything has a time and place, though, and the dumb broad I'm about to rant about needs to get a clue. Favorite tweet from some crazy guy named Rayke: "Didn't feel like going to Starbucks today. So I brewed my own coffee and lit four dollars on fire." It still makes me laugh.
The scene: Government Center, getting on the B Train. Me, some dumb broad in front of me twittering her life on her whatever cool phone is out nowadays (I can't totally hate, I got the Envy II, it's pretty sexy) and about 139834937558495849 drunk Red Sox fans behind me (I love the Sox, not the crazy, drunk, nut-bag fans). There is a time and a place to be engrossed with your phone/iPod/book. But when the doors of a subway car open, move. Yep. Snap back into the commuter world and do your commuter duties. So the doors open and she takes two steps into the door and then stops. I almost walk right into her. Fine . . . you don't want to move in. I politely say, "Excuse me." Click, click, click. "Ugh . . . excuse me." Click, tweet, click, tweet. So in order to make room for the 139834937558495849 people behind me, I have to rub up against her (not my idea of fun lady) to squeeze by her to move further into the cart.
She turns her head ever so slightly and says, "Well excuuuuuuuuuuse me."
I literally snap. Now normally I have this filter, but lack of sleep, hunger and general melancholy set in so yeah, I let her have it.
"Give me your number, next time I'll text you a personal fucking invitation to move into the damn car."
The surrounding Red Sox fans cheer. I bet she twittered about that incident.
Don't be a twit about twittering.
Love Cindy, giving you sexy birds something to twitter about since 1984.
And Alison, I really am pissed I never met the fail whale. We could have been friends.
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