WASHINGTON — It’s better reading than a bathroom wall.
More satisfying — with angry, red, ALL-CAPITAL rants and lovely, looping cursive — than an online bulletin board.
A kiosk in the Adams Morgan neighborhood has become a confessional where dozens of notes are pinned to a bulletin board, the physical manifestation of a region’s woes.
They are sad and funny, sweet and alarming, and completely voyeuristic, a window into souls.
“Please don’t hit me on my scooter”
“So help me God, I will tear my conductor’s heart out and eat it while he watches”
Festivus, the anti-Christmas, includes gathering around an aluminum pole for the “Airing of Grievances.”
“Really, it’s what people are really thinking. It’s a little disingenuous to have to be all cheerful, when this is what’s on your mind,” said Blue Telusma, 28, sweeping her hand over dozens of paper thoughts pinned to the bulletin board and flapping in the cold, December wind.
“My dad is being a tight ass and not paying for my wedding”
“Parents, please raise your kids so we don’t have to. Sincerely, A Teacher”
The response was phenomenal.
There are the ones that are just plain funny, Seinfeldian observances about stuff too small to talk about with your friends but big enough to put the nasty in your day:
“A pair of leggings is not pants”
“My office mate snorts”
“I hate it when my husband cuts his toenails in bed! UGH!”
It was part of the tradition of the real Festivus, a holiday created in 1966 by a colorful father to celebrate the day he met his wife. Their son, Daniel O’Keefe, wound up as a “Seinfeld” writer, and one family’s tradition became a storyline that is turning into an increasingly popular holiday.
It’s a time to rant about those picayune, urban tribulations. On her lunch hour, Mara Veraar, 30, scribbled her way to catharsis.
“I see a dead rat on my way to work every day,” she wrote. Then, she said, explaining further: “It’s not the same rat. It’s a different rat. Every. Single. Day.”
She pinned that next to a smattering of other city-centric complaints:
“The bus is never on time”
“POOR ESCALATOR ETIQUETTE”
“Illegally parked police cars”
“Why does happy hour start at 4:30 p.m. when work ends at 6:30?”
But the notes got more personal this week. Many of the writers knew nothing about Festivus, seeing the board simply as a chance to air their heartbreaking operettas. Affairs are confessed in lurid detail. Ex-lovers are cursed. Longings are expressed:
“I need to be loved”
“Why doesn’t he call?”
“Why doesn’t she call?”
“He doesn’t want to have kids, but I do”
“My girlfriend killed herself because I dumped her”
“I’m flat broke”
“Can’t find a job in this crap economy”
“Save our jobs!”
“I hate it when my mom is away at work”
“PLEASE get rid of the CRACK in my neighborhood”
“STOP SHOOTING!!!”
She didn’t want to give her name. After pinning the paper to the board, she drew a smile across her sad face with one finger. “There’s always next year,” she said.
Air your grievances
Heraldnet.com has no Festivus pole, but we’ll let you get your grievances off your chest. Go to this story on Heraldnet.com and comment.
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