I've been back in Boston for about a month and I've loved being back. While I no longer consider it my "home," I can't help but appreciate the small differences that make Boston unique and wholly different than Dallas-Fort Worth. What is really interesting is how I have changed to adapt to Dallas living and how that makes me a bit of stranger in Boston. Let me explain.
Transporting the masses
I have to admit that I am a bit of a mass transit snob. Having lived in Boston and Chicago, two places were mass transit works well (most of the time), I have come to expect a certain level of efficiency, timeliness, and speed from my mass transit. DFW mass transit meets none of these standards. Sure, the buses are on a schedule, but if you miss one, you have to wait close to an hour for the next one. On top of that, the train system only seems to cover downtown Dallas and some of the near neighborhoods. I can take a train from south of Boston all the way through and north of the city on one fare. To do something similar in Dallas it requires transferring train systems and taking buses. There are other issues with DFW mass transit, such as the underlying racism behind why certain DFW Metroplex cities and towns refuse to connect to mass transit, that I won't go into here, but suffice to say, if a person can't get in to and out of a major city efficiently using mass transit, I don't think of the place as a city.
Gentleman, Start your engines
Obviously you need a car to travel around DFW. That is a given and I commend DFW for having multiple highway systems that allow fast, fairly easy and non-jammed (except 365) travel around the Metroplex. This is an area where Boston is lacking. The streets are narrow, especially downtown, there always seems to be construction happening, and I forgot how rude drivers can be. I know Boston was originally designed as a "walking city" meaning you could walk from one end to the other with ease, but as it grew, it never seemed to adopt the idea of becoming drive-able. As far as construction goes, it's gotten better, but I'm pretty sure the "Big Dig" project has been going on my entire life and I'm not certain I'll outlive it...! I think driving in TX has made me more timid. I've read too many stories about road rage incidents turned violent because of weapon carrying laws in TX to really mess with other drivers on the road. When I drive in Boston, I get honked at a lot, presumably because I'm not turning fast enough, or pulling away off from a green light quick enough for the guy behind me. Sorry (I'm not sorry).
These are small things, but I find that they create major change in me and the way I view things around me. One of my TX buddies joked with me that once I've lived in TX for five consecutive years, I'm officially Texan. It's been four years since I moved, and maybe he's right. I find myself missing certain Texan comforts, like 24-hr drive thru, cheap gas, and inexpensive bar tabs. Still, I love Boston and will always relish being a Carpetbagger.
Showing posts with label TX. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TX. Show all posts
Jul 8, 2015
Apr 4, 2012
Tales from the Service Counter pt. 4
WARNING!! THE FOLLOWING POST CONTAINS GRAPHIC MATERIAL.
Last Sunday, I cut myself. It didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would.
While cutting a special order for a customer, I poked my left palm, just under the pinkie, with the tip of the knife. The sudden shock made me jerk my hand away and stretch it to combat the pain. As I did that, my skin popped and split.
The laceration didn't seem too deep until I cleaned it under some running water. I was able to see that I had cut all the way through the various layers of skin on my palm to expose some of the muscle beneath.
I wrapped the cut with paper towels and tape to keep it from bleeding everywhere while I drove myself to the emergency room. Once there, I was informed that I would need stitches to close the wound.
The MD worked deftly on my hand, first applying lidocaine, a local anesthetic which made the side of my palm feel like I had fallen asleep on it. Next, he cleaned the area with water and what I think was iodine. Then, he began the process of stitching my skin closed. It felt like an odd pressure on my palm as he pulled the thread through the gash, sowing it closed. Towards the end of the stitching, it began to hurt as he poked the needle through skin that wasn't numb.
The area was cleaned again and wrapped in a enough white gauze to form a pseudo boxing glove over my left hand.
I drove myself back to work and finished my shift.
Last Sunday, I cut myself. It didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would.
While cutting a special order for a customer, I poked my left palm, just under the pinkie, with the tip of the knife. The sudden shock made me jerk my hand away and stretch it to combat the pain. As I did that, my skin popped and split.
 |
| No longer a bloody mess |
The laceration didn't seem too deep until I cleaned it under some running water. I was able to see that I had cut all the way through the various layers of skin on my palm to expose some of the muscle beneath.
 |
| Lidocaine numbs my hand |
I wrapped the cut with paper towels and tape to keep it from bleeding everywhere while I drove myself to the emergency room. Once there, I was informed that I would need stitches to close the wound.
 |
| Six stitches |
The MD worked deftly on my hand, first applying lidocaine, a local anesthetic which made the side of my palm feel like I had fallen asleep on it. Next, he cleaned the area with water and what I think was iodine. Then, he began the process of stitching my skin closed. It felt like an odd pressure on my palm as he pulled the thread through the gash, sowing it closed. Towards the end of the stitching, it began to hurt as he poked the needle through skin that wasn't numb.
 |
| All patched up |
I drove myself back to work and finished my shift.
Jan 18, 2012
Tales from the Service Counter pt. 3
Another true story about the people I deal with at my retail job...
I had an interesting conversation with Isaac recently. Once again, I was stuck working a closing shift with him and despite the fact that we got done early it was not without the following interaction.
I came back from my break to find Isaac melting the ice in the seafood service case. As I walked up, he looked up and squeezed the hose shut to speak to me.
"I don't know why, but it always takes so long to melt the ice. Like twenty minutes. You know?" He said.
"Well, it's an endothermic reaction..." I replied.
"Yeah... Wait, what?" Isaac said.
"Endothermic, a reaction that draws in heat from its environment," I explained. He furrowed his brow and looked like he was concentrating and it required effort. Then his eyes glazed over. I could almost see "does not compute" scroll across his forehead. I sighed.
"When you spray the ice with the hot water from the hose the ice melts because the water is at a higher temperature than the ice. The ice absorbs the heat from the hot water to find a balance which is the mix of ice and water you get," I said. He began to nod vigorously.
"That's why the water isn't hot when it's done melting the ice because the ice cools it off," he exclaimed. I just looked at him.
Isaac went back to melting the ice as I walked behind the service counter and put my white coat back on.
"Dude, you're smart. You could be, like a teacher or something," he said. "I didn't even know they had scientific words for melting ice!"
I just shook my head.
I had an interesting conversation with Isaac recently. Once again, I was stuck working a closing shift with him and despite the fact that we got done early it was not without the following interaction.
I came back from my break to find Isaac melting the ice in the seafood service case. As I walked up, he looked up and squeezed the hose shut to speak to me.
"I don't know why, but it always takes so long to melt the ice. Like twenty minutes. You know?" He said.
"Well, it's an endothermic reaction..." I replied.
"Yeah... Wait, what?" Isaac said.
"Endothermic, a reaction that draws in heat from its environment," I explained. He furrowed his brow and looked like he was concentrating and it required effort. Then his eyes glazed over. I could almost see "does not compute" scroll across his forehead. I sighed.
"When you spray the ice with the hot water from the hose the ice melts because the water is at a higher temperature than the ice. The ice absorbs the heat from the hot water to find a balance which is the mix of ice and water you get," I said. He began to nod vigorously.
"That's why the water isn't hot when it's done melting the ice because the ice cools it off," he exclaimed. I just looked at him.
Isaac went back to melting the ice as I walked behind the service counter and put my white coat back on.
"Dude, you're smart. You could be, like a teacher or something," he said. "I didn't even know they had scientific words for melting ice!"
I just shook my head.
Sep 7, 2011
Tales of the Service Counter
The following is a true story from my retail job. The names have been changed to protect the idiotic...
Usually when I work nights I'm by myself for most of my shift. While this allows me to go about my routine in peace, it also means that I don't get a break unless I want to take it an hour into my eight-hour shift. That just feels like a waste. I might as well come in late for all the good taking my break that early does me.However, last week I was "gifted" with another co-worker who had been scheduled to work several hours into my closing shift so that I would be able to take a break near the middle of my shift. Little did I know how useless this gift would be.
Issac is relatively new to my dept of the store. However he's been with the company for at least two years and, at first glance, seems fairly competent. He's not, I promise. When I got into work that day and saw the schedule I rejoiced. Having Issac at work until 9 p.m. meant that I could take my break at 7:30 or 8p.m.
Sweet, I thought to myself. A little help with coverage means I can get some things done faster and without interruption.
Issac and I worked diligently until about 6 p.m. At which point I told him I needed to take care of a few things in the back and asked him to watch the counter so that I could work straight through without interruption I said it would only take me 45 minutes or so. He nodded and said he's watch the front. Awesome, I thought. He and I have an understanding.
About ten minutes into my work in the back, I happened to look up an see a customer waiting to be helped. I frowned, Where is Issac? Why isn't he helping this person already? I went to the counter to help her and then returned to the back, wondering where Issac had gone. About five minutes later, Issac came wondering into the back.
"Hey man, where did you go?" I asked. "There was a customer, I thought you said you would cover the front?"
"I was in the bathroom. Sorry," He replied.
"It's not a big deal," I said with a shrug. "I'm not done back here so just keep an eye out, cool?" He nodded but kept standing, looking at me. "Is something up?" I asked.
"No, I just wanted to tell you that I'm gonna take my break now," he said. I jerked my head in surprise and frowned again.
"Wha... Uh.... I thought..." I sputtered, shock making me stumble over my words. He looked at me like a dog does when it's confused. "Fine, OK. I'll see you in a half hour," I said. I was too caught off guard to argue with him. What about our understanding? I thought?
Thirty-five minutes later, Issac sauntered back in from his break. I spent the entire time helping customers at the counter quietly seething over his blatant refusal to help me with coverage. Upon his return I told him to watch the counter so I could finish my work in the back. As I walked away he called after me.
"Are you gonna take your break soon?" He asked.
"No, not yet," I responded. "I have to finish this work." I waved towards the back. He nodded his head as if he understood, then asked me a question.
"Hey, is it cool if I take off early?" I just stared at him, then turned and walked away, shaking my head.
Usually when I work nights I'm by myself for most of my shift. While this allows me to go about my routine in peace, it also means that I don't get a break unless I want to take it an hour into my eight-hour shift. That just feels like a waste. I might as well come in late for all the good taking my break that early does me.However, last week I was "gifted" with another co-worker who had been scheduled to work several hours into my closing shift so that I would be able to take a break near the middle of my shift. Little did I know how useless this gift would be.
Issac is relatively new to my dept of the store. However he's been with the company for at least two years and, at first glance, seems fairly competent. He's not, I promise. When I got into work that day and saw the schedule I rejoiced. Having Issac at work until 9 p.m. meant that I could take my break at 7:30 or 8p.m.
Sweet, I thought to myself. A little help with coverage means I can get some things done faster and without interruption.
Issac and I worked diligently until about 6 p.m. At which point I told him I needed to take care of a few things in the back and asked him to watch the counter so that I could work straight through without interruption I said it would only take me 45 minutes or so. He nodded and said he's watch the front. Awesome, I thought. He and I have an understanding.
About ten minutes into my work in the back, I happened to look up an see a customer waiting to be helped. I frowned, Where is Issac? Why isn't he helping this person already? I went to the counter to help her and then returned to the back, wondering where Issac had gone. About five minutes later, Issac came wondering into the back.
"Hey man, where did you go?" I asked. "There was a customer, I thought you said you would cover the front?"
"I was in the bathroom. Sorry," He replied.
"It's not a big deal," I said with a shrug. "I'm not done back here so just keep an eye out, cool?" He nodded but kept standing, looking at me. "Is something up?" I asked.
"No, I just wanted to tell you that I'm gonna take my break now," he said. I jerked my head in surprise and frowned again.
"Wha... Uh.... I thought..." I sputtered, shock making me stumble over my words. He looked at me like a dog does when it's confused. "Fine, OK. I'll see you in a half hour," I said. I was too caught off guard to argue with him. What about our understanding? I thought?
Thirty-five minutes later, Issac sauntered back in from his break. I spent the entire time helping customers at the counter quietly seething over his blatant refusal to help me with coverage. Upon his return I told him to watch the counter so I could finish my work in the back. As I walked away he called after me.
"Are you gonna take your break soon?" He asked.
"No, not yet," I responded. "I have to finish this work." I waved towards the back. He nodded his head as if he understood, then asked me a question.
"Hey, is it cool if I take off early?" I just stared at him, then turned and walked away, shaking my head.
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