that guy–big stain on crotch

None of us ever want to be that guy, be it this category or any other but this time it was me.

I'm eating my 'lunch' (and when I say lunch I really mean whatever scraps and leftovers I can scrounge up when I happen to get hungry) at my desk and today it consisted of some bread and marinara sauce. In general there is nothing finer and I love dipping bread in just about everything. So I'm ripping off hunks and dipping them in the sauce and greedily chowing down.

Then, as is my nature, I realize that there is some stray sauce around the lip of the Tupperware... Being Martin means I'm compelled to get every last molecule of food in my mouth and so I dutifully take a piece of bread and run it around the lip of the container to mop it all up. First the outside and then the inside.

Seeing as I'm doing this at my desk the doctor is in so to speak and people keep popping by the IT office. Picture me trying to help the Dean's wife with her husband's Blackberry when suddenly I'm startled by this cool sensation down by my crotch. I look down and I'm slowly pouring the marinara sauce into my lap because in my efforts to wipe the last bit of sauce off the inside of the container I had tilted it way over; too far over.

She was like, "Oh, I can see you are in the middle of your lunch, how about I come back later...?"

No...! I said something like, "Just leave the Blackberry here and I'll have it back to you in a jiffy." I reach for the first thing that seems capable of scooping sauce off my jeans and it's a card Shelley sent me long ago. But it's glossy (so hopefully the sauce will not damage it) and it's rigid enough so I grab it. As the Dean's wife is walking out of the office I'm left trying to scrape all this mess off my pants and be super subtle about it. Not.

Then I have to run to the bathroom to grab a bunch of paper towels, wet them down and start the dabbing process in what is always a futile attempt to make it look like this never happened. Of course that is not what happens and instead I emerge from the bathroom with a big, wet stain on my jeans right in the most embarrassing spot possible. Nice. All I can say is thank goodness I didn't have to give a talk or anything.

By now my jeans are mostly dry and it looks like the card survived. Whew...

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that guy-10 gallon hard hat

Call me a cave dweller but I had never seen this before yesterday when I was driving Cameron to school. We passed by a construction site and one of the workers was running across the street to a mini mart and he had on a hard hat in the shape of a cowboy hat.

Nice.

What's the deal here? Is turning your traditional, old school hard hat around backwards just not hip enough? Or is this just the classic rock version of the hard hat and it's been around for years - it's just that I have never seen it. I'm betting that's the case...

A quick Google search confirms that you can get a hard hat in any color you want, with any graphics, but they only come in the standard shape (with some slight variations) and the cowboy hat. And I could not help but notice that all the 'models' sporting the cowboy hard hat had a mustache. It seems somehow perfect.

It really does come to your frame of reference. If I was on a construction site and saw someone with a cowboy hard hat they would be subjected to endless ribbing. Which obviously proves that I have never been on any construction site in my life. If this guy can get away with that hat in one of the most narrow minded, homophobic, blinders on when it comes to style communities it has got to be a cool thing to do. Not so cool that everyone is doing it mind you, you've gotta know the young construction crowd prefers the Ken Griffey look but still, to be able to pull that off...

One word: balls

Some more: doesn't travel outside of his social circle much

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that guy-Jacques Cousteau hat wearing

I love the bus. Or any form of public transportation.

Tons of people I know hate riding the bus; or any form of public transportation. They say it's weird, dirty, the people are freaky and stare at you, they don't want to be forced to sit next to the guy that smells like a bum or a sweaty tourist. I like to people watch and  believe you me, there are few places better than good old Metro.

ASIDE - these days everyone and their brother is plugged into their MP3 player so no one looks at you anyway. Toss loads of dark glasses into the mix on any sunny day and it's almost like being in a house of mirrors. You could not feel more alone.

So besides all the practical advantages of taking 'the second car' like not having to drive myself, my employer provides me with a dirt cheap pass and there happens to be a bus line that goes right to my work and drops me off about five blocks from home, I get to check out all the weird, dirty, smelly freaks that ride it with me.

And make no mistake, there are almost always some on board. Like three days ago. This guy was sitting a few rows in front of me and had on a knit cap. Only unlike most of the youth today who pull it all the way down so it practically obscures their eyes, this guy had it rolled all the way UP stylin' like Jacques Cousteau:

Never have I seen this style carried out to this extreme. This hat was rolled up so far it looked like a yarmulke.

What exactly does this (let's just call it what it is -  a fashion accessory) accomplish? It's covering about 10 percent of his head and if it actually were cold and windy the first strong gust would steal this skull decoration no problem. Watches, belts, glasses, purses, they all have a second purpose over and above being fashionable that is practical. This woolen thimble? Not so much.

I've always wondered about this particular fashion accessory... What look exactly is this person striving to achieve? The esoteric, French artist? Some overly dramatic cinematic stereotype of a sailor? Certainly not that of the  underwater researcher and SCUBA pioneer pictured above.

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that guy-fully made up and no place to go except out walking the dog

Towards the end of my bike ride yesterday a small group of us were finishing a lap of Mercer Island and we saw a woman walking her dog.

Now say what you will about Mercer Island but it's nothing if not

• white
• rich
• white (oops, I already said that...)
• inhabited by lots of badly aging empty nesters

And that is exactly what we saw. I believe "fully botoxed" were Dustin V's exact words as we passed this woman who was walking her dog towards us. Let me set the scene.

Fur lined brown jacket, matching (but not fur lined - I don't think) brown pants, matching brown [insert expensive designer name here] handbag daintily perched on one arm, hair (colored to match the outfit so help me god) perfectly sprayed just so, makeup that would stand up to rock concert spotlights and of course skin that was way too smooth for this at least 50 something woman.

Don't get me wrong, nothing wrong with trying to keep yourself looking good and doing a little maintenance here and there but this was the full on puffy lips, apply the foundation with a trowel, no one EVER sees me as I really am hideous mask that gives me the creeps.

Two words: let go.

Two more: Jacqueline wannabe

Two more: Martin has an attitude problem

Well that's more than two but you get the idea.

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