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What? Just ... no
Nov. 29th, 2008 03:09 pmWherein I rant and you can look at me like I'm bugeyed or touched in the head (which I probably am, but at least it's usually for a good cause). Fortunately, it's not a long one.
Would someone tell me HOW one can participate in such a press of people in a crowded space that nobody at all notices that the ground beneath them no longer feels like floor and instead, like human? I need an explanation other than "well, you just don't know that big a crowd ..." Because yes, I do; I really do. I was in the Hong Kong equivalent of Times Square the Saturday right before Easter Sunday in 2001. There were thousands of us in the streets, *literally* in a press of people, to the point if you didn't want to lose track of your group, you physically held on to one of them, and so forth. And I still was aware of the fact there was always concrete or asphalt beneath my sneakers, NOT a person-lump. (For which I would have stopped or at least yelled and pointed.)
No offense to retail workers on my list, but let's face it - working as an associate at Wal-Mart is not the kind of job that's worth being killed while doing. Reporting in a war zone, governmental spy, Army captain, jet pilot, space shuttle crew ... these all come with certain risks. BUT WORKING A GODDAMNED MINIMUM-WAGE JOB SHOULD NOT. Especially not serving a bunch of assholes who can't be bothered to give up a fucking $12 Tickle Me Elmo or whatever, to stop and check on someone being trampled to death.
Dad said, "If I were that guy's family, I believe I'd end up owning Wal-Mart, or at least a healthy percentage of the company." You know, it's one of the few times I agree with him. Hopefully several enterprising lawyers licensed in New York were watching and are salivating at the possibility of filing that lawsuit. (Although what would really be great is if there had been a security camera trained on the area that could pick up individual crushers well enough to identify them as co-defendants.)
Would someone tell me HOW one can participate in such a press of people in a crowded space that nobody at all notices that the ground beneath them no longer feels like floor and instead, like human? I need an explanation other than "well, you just don't know that big a crowd ..." Because yes, I do; I really do. I was in the Hong Kong equivalent of Times Square the Saturday right before Easter Sunday in 2001. There were thousands of us in the streets, *literally* in a press of people, to the point if you didn't want to lose track of your group, you physically held on to one of them, and so forth. And I still was aware of the fact there was always concrete or asphalt beneath my sneakers, NOT a person-lump. (For which I would have stopped or at least yelled and pointed.)
No offense to retail workers on my list, but let's face it - working as an associate at Wal-Mart is not the kind of job that's worth being killed while doing. Reporting in a war zone, governmental spy, Army captain, jet pilot, space shuttle crew ... these all come with certain risks. BUT WORKING A GODDAMNED MINIMUM-WAGE JOB SHOULD NOT. Especially not serving a bunch of assholes who can't be bothered to give up a fucking $12 Tickle Me Elmo or whatever, to stop and check on someone being trampled to death.
Dad said, "If I were that guy's family, I believe I'd end up owning Wal-Mart, or at least a healthy percentage of the company." You know, it's one of the few times I agree with him. Hopefully several enterprising lawyers licensed in New York were watching and are salivating at the possibility of filing that lawsuit. (Although what would really be great is if there had been a security camera trained on the area that could pick up individual crushers well enough to identify them as co-defendants.)
