Wednesday, May 27, 2009
1. Marked by or suggestive of high spirits and lively mirthfulness
It's odd how your sour temperament can naturally turn to a joncund state of mind after three scotches, two xanax and a partial lobotomy.
People who are in a good mood always like to shove it in your face. Like people who just got laid for the first time in nine years who walk around town whistling and giving out unnecessary compliments, like they are in some 1950's musical and are just waiting for someone to hand them an umbrella so they can levitate into the fog and do some complicated dance number on top of the electrical lines.
"What a glorious day, the world is filled with possibilities. The sun is shining, here have five dollars, you're beautiful. La-la-la-la. "
The other day I was half asleep making my way out of the subway. I was late for work and had just been stuck in the tunnel for 10 minutes wedged next to a man eating McDonald's for breakfast and a mariachi band listening to the conductor say what amounted to, "Lageries and gentalzeen, we arrre fuccccckkeeeed, and I'm too tiaaared to expllllayn whyyy. BLAH!"
As I exited the train, a man rushing down the steps bumped into me and spilled coffee on my jeans and half my arm and in my effort to clean myself up I accidentally spilled the contents of half my bag onto the damp, filthy sidewalk. As I struggled to regain my composure, a look of completely merited irritation on my face; a man, wearing a purple Jansport backpack heavy with Green party political buttons, John Lennon sunglasses and what I'm pretty sure was a handmade hemp necklace passed me and said, "You should smile more, or your face will get stuck like that."
Call me crazy, but unless you are walking with someone who is goddamn hilarious, you are recently in love or you are listening to a witty podcast on your iPod, walking around the streets of New York smiling at strangers is creepy, desperate and just plain irritating. I always imagine that those weird people who walk around grinning like fools are either thrilled that their new anti-depressant seems to finally be working, or they have just killed someone and are overcompensating.
Granted I have those moments when I'm playing hooky from something and the sun is out and Maggie May just came on my iPod and I'm having a good hair day and my anti-depressants are finally working and I just killed someone and got away with it. And I feel happy, jocund even. And I want to tell everyone they are beautiful and give everyone five dollars. But I don't, because I have tact and self control and I don't feel the need to remind everyone that I am happy and they are miserable.
I'm pretty sure that's how you get punched in the face.