Have you ever had the sinking feeling in your stomach that you did not belong anymore? There you are, minding your own business when all of a sudden, a wave of panic ripples through your body and you have the internal urge to be anywhere but here. It is the feeling of waking up to reality, right before your mind has time to fully digest the dire situation you are in and your brain simply wants to yell “help”.
That’s what happened to me this morning when I missed my stop while riding the bus to work.
Luckily, with lighting-fast reflexes, I was able to press the “stop requested” strip and hop off the bus one stop later, thus avoiding a major catastrophe. But what would have happened if my reflexes weren’t so quick? What if I never noticed that I passed my stop? What would happen if I simply stayed on the bus?
After ten minutes, I would have reached Lechmere T stop where the bus would have turned around and headed back to Harvard Square via Cambridge Street.
After an hour, there would have been a shift change and a new driver would command the bus up and down Cambridge Street.
After ten hours, the bus would be parked overnight at the central bus facility.
After a day, the morning shift driver would probably be wondering why I’m still on the bus after all this time. But they never say when you have to get off the bus after paying your fare.
After a year, the bus would be at the mechanic for its regularly scheduled maintenance.
After twenty years, the bus would be decommissioned and disposed at a junkyard.
After a hundred years, the bus would be buried under a mountain of mechanical parts and refuse.
After a thousand years, the landfill would be full and covered. Due to the lack of space, the surface of the landfill would be terraformed to be a new residential zone.
After a million years, new species would evolve that will marvel at the archaeological significance of a fossilized bus.
After four billion years, the sun will go supernova, consuming the remainder of the atoms of the bus.
After 100 billion years, the universe will suffer a massive heat loss as all the stars burn out. The world, as we know it, will end.
Good thing I got off the bus when I did. I don’t want to cause the universe to end!
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
A Strange Happening
The strangest thing happened to me the second week of March. I woke up and found myself at Disney World. Now, that by itself is not particularly strange as every morning thousands of people wake up and find themselves at Disney World. It is even less strange when you consider that I went to bed the night before at Disney World too. In fact, it would have been stranger if I woke up and found myself in Boston or Nashville instead of the Port Orleans Riverside Resort.
The Port Orleans Riverside Resort, not surprisingly, is pretty much like what it sounds. Nearly thirty building all designed with the quaint architecture from the French Quarter lines the banks of a man-made river. All the rooms open to the outside where pristinely maintained gardens and water fountains separate the many pools from the residential buildings. A ferry, departing from the local port, heads to Downtown Disney, a short fifteen minute ride away. And, unsurprisingly, the wait to board the boat is about half an hour.
It was a strange morning for me, though. I got up, brushed my teeth, shaved and performed the other rituals of the morning before heading to the pool. Mind you, that’s not all that strange either as every morning I go through the same hygienic routine in order to make myself presentable. I do have to admit, however, that I don’t head to the pool every morning. But frankly, if I could wake up, open my door, find myself in a blossoming garden with a clear sky and 70 degree weather at 7:00 in the morning during March while heading to an outside swimming pool, I would add it to my morning practice too.
When one’s at Disney World, many ordinary occurrences would be considered extraordinary anywhere else. Everyone goes mouse hunting at Disney World. That is a given. Most people, however, do it at the Disney Store. At the store, after making a purchase, all the cashiers sign off with “and have a magical day” while beaming a cheerful smile oblivious to the twenty screaming kids that are standing behind you in line at the counter. And, unsurprisingly, after buying souvenirs, not only can the purchase be charged to your room, but you can have it delivered there too so you don’t have to be carrying shopping bags while you enjoy your vacation.
So what was so strange about the trip? Looking back on it all, my visit to Disney World was rather typical. Everything that did happen should have happened. There really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. In fact, I am sure that the armadillo I ran into in the hallway of my hotel thought to himself, “What an ordinary day, and there’s another guy going to the pool for a morning swim.”
The Port Orleans Riverside Resort, not surprisingly, is pretty much like what it sounds. Nearly thirty building all designed with the quaint architecture from the French Quarter lines the banks of a man-made river. All the rooms open to the outside where pristinely maintained gardens and water fountains separate the many pools from the residential buildings. A ferry, departing from the local port, heads to Downtown Disney, a short fifteen minute ride away. And, unsurprisingly, the wait to board the boat is about half an hour.
It was a strange morning for me, though. I got up, brushed my teeth, shaved and performed the other rituals of the morning before heading to the pool. Mind you, that’s not all that strange either as every morning I go through the same hygienic routine in order to make myself presentable. I do have to admit, however, that I don’t head to the pool every morning. But frankly, if I could wake up, open my door, find myself in a blossoming garden with a clear sky and 70 degree weather at 7:00 in the morning during March while heading to an outside swimming pool, I would add it to my morning practice too.
When one’s at Disney World, many ordinary occurrences would be considered extraordinary anywhere else. Everyone goes mouse hunting at Disney World. That is a given. Most people, however, do it at the Disney Store. At the store, after making a purchase, all the cashiers sign off with “and have a magical day” while beaming a cheerful smile oblivious to the twenty screaming kids that are standing behind you in line at the counter. And, unsurprisingly, after buying souvenirs, not only can the purchase be charged to your room, but you can have it delivered there too so you don’t have to be carrying shopping bags while you enjoy your vacation.
So what was so strange about the trip? Looking back on it all, my visit to Disney World was rather typical. Everything that did happen should have happened. There really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. In fact, I am sure that the armadillo I ran into in the hallway of my hotel thought to himself, “What an ordinary day, and there’s another guy going to the pool for a morning swim.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)