001 Ergonomics

I waited.

Sitting uncomfortably, numb, shaky from too much coffee.

My center of gravity was somewhere near the edge of a wooden park bench. I was people watching in the sun. The air was cold, but it was contrasted beautifully with rays of heat breaking occasionally through the trees.

Spring in February, I thought this strange, as I hope most other people do. It is somehow more exciting than usual.

I looked down to noticed that a moment ago, when I had spit at the ground, I had spit on my shoes. I shook it off. A poorly groomed poodle, tied to the same bench in which I was sitting, licked it up. Why is it that dogs can eat, drink, lick, put anything in their mouths without getting sick? In instances like this, I feel that our pampered, over medicated, anti-bacterial, anti-boitic, take-a-sick-day-for-a-headache lifestyle does nothing but push us several steps backwards through evolution.

She arrived.

My back began to ache. I noticed I was slouching heavily. I now want to know why park benches have such poor ergonomic design. She pointed out that saying the word 'ergonomic' makes you sound as if you have yogurt in your throat.

I agreed.