Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Backpack Man

An Open Letter to the Guy On the Crowded N Train Who Wouldn't Take Off His Backpack-

Dude, I know that it's a sweet backpack; there's no denying that. It clearly holds a lot of stuff and it's really, really orange which probably means that people can see you when you're lost in the forest. Nevermind the fact that, at least when I saw you wearing it, you were in Brooklyn, which isn't really a place known for it's dense stands of trees and thick foliage. Also, you are doughy, pale and had the look of a mid-level office manager about you, which leads me to believe that the last time you were "in nature" was that time you caught the Sting concert in Central Park. Look, the point is I doubt that you're a Park Ranger or a Forestry Expert or anything that would actually require you to wear a backpack such as that (though it is totally sweet, of course).

But it's not my place to tell people what to wear or what makes them look like a sad little man who misguidedly funneled his midlife crisis into some unfortunante luggage, as opposed to a new car or a pretty 20-year-old.

I do, however, think that I can comment freely on the fact that you refused to take off your backpack during the morning rush hour commute, despite the fact that it was the size of an old-model VW Beatle and was knocking down whole swaths of passengers everytime you shifted your body weight.

Dude... not cool. Everyone on the train was staring at you with murder on their minds. That kind of collected, focused hate is going to give you cancer and it will be all your fault for wearing a large backpack in a crowd. Do you want that? No, no you don't.

So... yeah. Glad we had this talk. Oh, before I sign off, one more thing... if I see you with that backpack on the train again, I will set it on fire. The backpack, I mean. Sweet though it is.



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