Spencer Platt/Getty Images News/Getty Images
By Jon Weidman

We all tend to say things in our daily lives that make me want to hurl myself into traffic. It’s a humanity-wide nervous tick. A conversational seat-filler that exists solely to quash the awkward emptiness of silence with a relative stranger. Why is it so totally fine to sit in silence with a loved one but so totally untenable to sit in silence with a stranger? This thing is only said by losers. And sometimes that loser is me. It has to be purged from our lexicon. We’ve already compromised enough of our culture through gentrification and Kristen Stewart. This is the final frontier. The last thrust of defense against social decay as manifested in one vapid statement.

“I can’t believe it’s about to snow again.”

My face drops. My heart sinks. You’ve said it. What now? There is no way to flip this narrative through witticism. There are only two options. Stare at you with hatred, or grin and nod like a fucking idiot to fake some kind of empathetic camaraderie. “I can’t believe it’s about to snow again either!” my face says, and I want to die.

You are a liar, because it’s March. Of course you can believe that it’s about to snow again, because we live in a temperate deciduous forest and you’ve seen or at least anecdotally heard evidence that this particular biome consistently produces snow at this time of year.

You are an attention whore, and you’re feigning drama because you can’t shut up. You can deal with snow, because you always have and you always do.  Want to know what one of the underrated worst qualities in human beings is? Complaining about things they can’t change. You’re doing that. Fuck you.

Third off, don’t ever spontaneously bring up depressing things! Fuck you again! Why on earth would you force me to think about an impending shitty event I can’t stop? And why did you start thinking of snowstorms as soon as you found yourself in casual conversation with me? Do I inspire this kind of negative thinking? Now I’m questioning myself. Now I feel bummed about both the storm and my personal knack for inspiring stormthoughts. And it’s Tuesday, and we aren’t even supposed to see a drop of snow until Thursday. You are prematurely ejaculating bad vibes all over the place, and bad vibes are worse than snow.

Problematically, I find myself saying this kind of shit all the time. Usually when I’m outside having a cigarette, which is unfortunately my best hardcore thinking time, and I’m ambushed by some well-meaning smoker. Looking up and snapping back to reality, the first thing I see is weather. Rendered dumb in the transition between intro- and outro-version, I speak insidiously.

This is not an excuse, just an explanation for why I do it.

Why do you do it?

I am, as I write this, intermittently looking out of my bedroom window for signs of the first flakes of a two-day Nor’easter. The hourly forecast is grim, but god willing we’ll get one more day of clear skies.

One last chance to maybe, just maybe, keep our mouths shut before it hits.

Leave a Reply