1.
Movie trailers. I remember when I was about 12 years old and like 65% of the fun of going to the movies was the trailers. Watching the trailers was like opening the five smaller Christmas presents before the big one that you already knew was going to be an iPod because your mom had told you the week before that's what you were getting. I would sit in the theater in wonder as each trailer unfolded: "Oh, it's a romance... or a period piece?... Nicole Kidman
AND Jude Law?!?... oh wait, no, it's a
war movie?... are you
serious?!... IS THAT
RENEE ZELLWEGER?!?" (Yep, my inner monologue has the cadence of a Kristen Wiig
SNL character.) But nowadays, in the midst of what your cool uncle calls the "digital age," I can't even remember the last time I saw a trailer in a theater that I hadn't already seen online. Now when I'm watching a trailer and have a funny observation, instead of whispering it into my friend's ear and being rewarded with a Sour Patch Kid-scented snicker, I type it into my Blackberry to remember for later and feel like an idiot.
2.
The summer. I don't think I was ever necessarily IN LOVE with the summer, so saying it "got ruined" for me is maybe a touch melodramatic. But, I suppose, summers
did used to be lovely breaks from that MIDDLE SCHOOL DAILY GRIND and I got to go to camp and eat a lot of candy on benches and gossip about all the counselors with my friends -- so I guess summers were sort of great. But now I absolutely
detest the summer. For all the obvious reasons that everyone always mentions, like the subway being really hot and there not being new episodes of
One Tree Hill. But there's also just this terrible, still, sluggish feeling in the air, reminiscent of the inconsistently paced, montage-laden middle third of a movie during which nothing actually happens.
3.
The Cosi on 6th Avenue. This one is raw, you guys. I was all excited two weeks ago because I found a Cosi near my new office in Chelsea. At about 1pm, I went in, walked up to the counter, flashed a smile and waited for the cashier to finish her conversation with another employee. "Oh, hi, ma'am," she said as she turned to face me. Quickly catching herself, she proceeded to HOWL with laughter as I just stood there like a mute dunce. "Oh, I am
so sorry, sir. I just wasn't paying attention. I cannot
believe I called you 'ma'am.' Oh my god." She then turned to the friend she had just been talking to and said, "Did you hear I just called him 'ma'am'?" Smooth as ever, I stammered, voice nearly cracking, "You can call me whatever you want, I don't mind!" (Cast me in the new Superman movie ASAP, Warner Bros.!)
She laughed while I looked away, mortified. I ordered a chicken Caesar salad, but she paused before ringing it up. "You're sure you don't want shrimp or... steak instead?" she asked, inexplicably shuddering when she said the word "steak." "Um, no, why?" I asked, "Is the chicken, like, bad or something? Are you warning me?" "Omigod, NO," she said, "I just, you know, wanted you to be
sure." I fumbled with my change and said, "Uh, well, you're kind of making me feel less sure, but I think I'll stick with chicken... I guess?"
The next day I walked to Cosi, looked in the door, saw that she was at the register and... I decided to keep walking and go to Chipotle.