(#35) The "Plate Swap" I Should've

Last week, I was informed of a free seminar about combating writer's block and procrastination. It sounded great. Free advice from a professional? But wait, it gets better. The promotional material I received promised a free book, a free personal consultation, AND a free meal--all for just showing up and listening to this woman speak! Forget the book, forget the advice, they had me at "free meal."

Unfortunately, when I got to the event this evening, the "free meal" was actually four veggie platters. I was pissed. I'd skipped dinner.

So, I did what most people would do. I piled a plate high and ate my humus and veggies while secretly cursing everyone present.

After finishing my plate (which, sadly, was a pitiful 6" plate), I noticed the woman sitting next to me was talking to someone else. Her back was turned to me and her plate of fresh veggies and humus stood within my reach.

I should've . . . stealthily swapped my empty plate for her full plate. Two things could have happened at that point. 1) She could have realized I was stealing her food. In response, I would have told her not to be selfish. OR 2) She wouldn't have noticed right away, and when she finally did (at which point I probably would have already consumed her food), I would have pointed to the man sitting behind me and shook my head in disbelief.

(#34) The "Posthumous" I Should've

Tonight in my Textual Editing and Criticism class, we were discussing the work of Thomas Wolfe. He was a well-known author back in the earlier part of the 20th century. One of his works, Look Homeward, Angel is considered to be controversial because of how he collaborated with his editor, Maxwell Perkins, to bring the novel into print (changing the novel in many drastic ways).

To better illustrate Wolfe's body of work, our professor drew several circles on the whiteboard. One to represent each of the novels Wolfe wrote while alive and then another circle with two smaller circles with an X in each of them to represent Wolfe's work that was published after he died. I thought this last circle was hilarious because the professor didn't realize what he drew closely resembled.



As he continued talking, I should've . . . calmly walked up to the front of the classroom, gently took the dry erase marker from his hand, completed the picture, and then sat back down in my seat because I'm sure everyone in the class was wanting to do the same thing. Especially since the circle was labeled "Posthumous". How ironic.

(#33) The "More Stretching" I Should've

If there is anything I have learned during my time in public transit, it's "Don't be a complete jerk to the crazy person on the T. You'll probably see him/her again."

This held true this evening when I saw the same man who showed me how to properly stretch the other day. This evening, he did not have enormous fake flowers stuck to his hat, but he was carrying a bunch of pussy willows and several plastic grocery bags.

Tonight, he started talking about how the Mass General Hospital put him "back together" after he stepped on a landmine in the war (Vietnam?), how nigga is just a word and that there are white niggas and black niggas (the man, himself, was Black, so, I guess he can say that), and he even lowered himself to the floor and showed everyone how to stretch again. He was very vocal--as most crazy people are--and even told a woman to "knock that white nigga (the man she was with) out if he does anything wrong." At one point, he dropped his bags and sent a bottle of Budweiser and a little brown bottle of a different alcoholic liquid spinning across the floor of the train.

Oh, there were so many things I should've done.

I should've . . . shouted "Amen!" loudly every time he said something strange, told him that I didn't believe he was in the war and asked for specific details for him to prove it, or snatched away his pussy willows and ran off when the T came to my stop. He could have gotten more pussy willows when he's sleeping down by the river. No big deal.