Alterna-bikers, cool your jets
Yeah, it’s shitty to be a bicyclist in Boston. It’s also shitty to be a driver in Boston and to be a pedestrian in Boston. So all you FAKE-THUG BICYCLISTS need to redirect your rage already. You know who you are: you’re the ones who pretend traffic lights don’t exist, who barrel through crowds of strolling geriatrics without reducing speed, who scream and spit if someone even thinks about cutting you off. Ever heard of a little thing called the Golden Rule? Let’s try this: we’ll look twice before opening a car door or jaywalking, and you stop acting like we’re all trespassing on your private bike path.
Menino’s inexorable march
Boston needs a good mayoral race. No disrespect to Tom Menino — we didn’t say we needed a better mayor — but this quadrennial rite of watching some weak-ass candidate get crushed by Hizzonah is getting very, very old. If somebody doesn’t pull a Joe Timilty soon, WE MIGHT AS WELL JUST CANCEL THE 2009 ELECTION. How about it, Ralph Martin? What say you, Paul Grogan? Anybody? Is this thing on?
Social lube on the tube
It’s not as though we’re Emily Post disciples, but there are four main points of COMMON COURTESY ON THE T that Bostonians can’t seem to grasp. 1) Why must you hug the poles? Are you not getting enough affection at home? It’s not there for you to wrap both arms around and squeeze, blocking any person standing within reach from touching it. If you enjoy grinding poles, go request a job application at The Glass Slipper, Smug McSmuggerton. 2) Even more maddening than forgetting to bring reading material on the T is finding that the bored dude sitting to our right is skimming Chapter One over our shoulder, sighing loudly when it takes us too long to turn the page. Hey, guy: we are not slow readers. We just can’t concentrate because you have filled us with the passive-aggressive fury of a thousand Andy Rooneys. Buy your own book, douche bag. 3) When the T driver bellows “Move to the back of the car!” and we push past you because you assume that all T-driver-issued commands don’t apply to you, why do you turn and glare as though you would like to quietly drive a shiv into our kidney? Either wipe that self-righteous sneer off your face, you indolent sloth, or just get the hell out of our way. 4) Backpacks make you two or three times thicker, hosers. Keep that in mind next time you wheel around to say hi to your wicked cute chem-lab partner. Better yet, just take the damn thing off and put it on the floor next to your feet.
Only Boston could turn something as delightful as shoe shopping into a joyless pursuit. It is IMPOSSIBLE TO LOCATE A PAIR OF TALL, FLAT, MODERATELY PRICED BOOTS in this town. Yes, we do remember the sweet pair at Nine West a year ago, which were snapped up in a heartbeat and then discontinued. And yeah, we did see the crummy pirate-style suede ones at Urban Outfitters (gag) and the ill-fitting slouch ones at Steve Madden (blech). Thanks-for-nothing honorable mentions go to Thom Brown, the Thom Brown Outlet, Jasmine Sola Shoes, Aldo, Payless, Macy’s, Wild Pair, and Filene’s Basement. Sorry, Boston: Zappos.com wins this round.