At War With the Weather Gods. - There are times, here, when I fear I've done something to personally piss off the weather gods: Days when any sunlight is obscured by ceaseless, soul-sucki...
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
I've never wanted to be a suit. You know the kind: a swath of sameness, dark gray, maybe pin-striped, cardboard cut-outs of dudes projected outwards from a suit.
They travel in packs, with similar haircuts and shoes and grooming habits. They have similar idioms and laughs. They may pull for different sports teams, but don't push much beyond that.
We've encountered them waiting for an elevator, all piling on at once.
"Suits," we both said, and nodded, and everything was implied and understood.
We waited for the next elevator.