Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Smart Phones and the Idiots That Use Them: Part II

Yes, there is a part one. One of the first posts, actually. Though it's not at all related to this story or particularly well-written. If you feel like digging for it and sharing the douche-chills I got while re-reading it, it's in the June 2012 archive. 

A man walks outside. He's an older, American dude wearing a UCB comedy hat. He wasn't a celebrity or anything, so it led me to believe that he's from the midwest and has an early-20-something kid, who lives here and he supports financially. The kid does improv three times a week, calling it his "pursuit of acting". A pursuit of acting that doesn't involve waiting tables or carrying people's bags to support himself. The hat was likely a gift from the little non-working, gentrified-neighborhood-living puke, to go along with the NYU sweatshirt he bought Daddy two Christmases ago.

(That's the mean-spirited, judgmental backstory I'm making up for this guy. I'm in that kind of mood today. Maybe it's because I worked 24 out of the last 32 hours and only have $52 to show for it and I'm really fucking bitter. See? You can just make up stuff! Isn't story-telling fun?)

So, Daddy comes out side with his hat and NYU sweater (he's wearing a jacket and I can't see it, but I know it's there), holding an iPhone, which has a subway-direction app open.

Without a "hello" or "excuse me", he vomits his inquiry:

Daddy - "Where's the 1 train?!?"

I take the 1 train to work every day. I grew up on Staten Island, and the SI Ferry is the last stop on the 1. I've ridden this line more than any other. I can commute on it blindfolded.

Doorman - "Five blocks down, make a right. It'll be at the corner of Broadway."

Of course, Daddy looks down at his fucking phone for verification. The computer tells him otherwise.

Daddy - "But...  it says here to go four blocks up and take a left at Columbus Circle."

And here's where I have to suppress the urge to take him by the ears and shake his head violently, screaming "IF YOU FUCKING KNEW THE ANSWER THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU FUCKING ASK ME?!?" before slamming his pasty-white head against the concrete wall.

I didn't do that. Because I am a trained hospitality professional, of course.

Doorman - "Are you going uptown or downtown?"

Daddy - "Downtown."

Doorman - "Ok, so you want to use that station. Five blocks down, make a right. It'll be at the corner of Broadway."

Daddy stares at his phone.

Daddy - "But... it says here I have to go the opposite way."

Doorman - "Trust me. I live here. Five blocks down, make a right. Corner of Broadway."

Daddy - "But... it says here it's the 7th ave line. You're telling me to go to Broadway?"

Doorman - "Broadway intersects with 7th on that street. Trust me."

Daddy - "But... it says here I have to go to Columbus Circle."

Doorman - "You'll be walking in the opposite direction of where you're going, and Columbus Circle is a massive station and the 1 train is buried all the way in the back. You'll spend more time walking through the terminal when you get there than you would just walking... five blocks down, make at right, it'll be at the corner of Broadway."

Daddy - "But..."

Doorman - "Five blocks down, make a right, it'll be at the corner of Broadway."

Daddy - "But..." 

He squints his eyes and stares at the phone like he's trying to crack the screen with his mind. 

Daddy - "it says here..." 

He turns to where I'm leading him, then back toward where the phone is telling him. The man is at a crossroads.

Daddy - "But I count four blocks if I go to Columbus Circle, and five blocks if I go to where you're telling me." 

At this point, the only direction I want to see him walk is his immediate left, which would result in him getting plowed by a bus. I didn't care if he got to his destination, but I felt an obligation to win this argument because I'm stubborn.

Doorman - "It's four blocks and one avenue. Avenues are much, much longer."

He scrolls his index finger up and down the glass screen. Without saying anything else, he turns towards the direction I sent him, and leaves without saying "thank you".

I watch him walk down the block because I have nothing better to do. He crosses the first street, makes a right, stops for a beat, then does an about-face and starts walking towards the direction where his fucking smart phone sent him.

Daddy briskly walks towards the hotel across the street from ours, never looking up from his phone. He gets there and, I shit you not, stops and asks their doorman for directions.

I watch what appears to be the same line of questioning that Daddy used on me, incessantly referring to the smartphone while the doorman across the street points to the same place I directed him. After a while, Daddy gives up and reluctantly accepts the second opinion from another guy in a funny hat, slumping through the beginnings of the faux snowstorm of this past Monday.

Let's all hope Daddy's son is better at improv than his father is at listening to the locals.

Since the run of Doorman: Season One is over, I'd like to say that the feedback we've gotten has been wonderful and we're overjoyed with the way it turned out. We want to make more episodes this year, and the more hits we get on the channel, the easier it will be for us to raise the money to make that happen. So please, if you love the show, share the fuck out of it. 

Here's the playlist of season one: 

And the official Doorman Show Website

And the official Twitter:

And the Facebook Page: 

Be nice to others. 

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