None of us ever want to be that guy, be it this category or any other but this time it was me.

I'm eating my 'lunch' (and when I say lunch I really mean whatever scraps and leftovers I can scrounge up when I happen to get hungry) at my desk and today it consisted of some bread and marinara sauce. In general there is nothing finer and I love dipping bread in just about everything. So I'm ripping off hunks and dipping them in the sauce and greedily chowing down.

Then, as is my nature, I realize that there is some stray sauce around the lip of the Tupperware... Being Martin means I'm compelled to get every last molecule of food in my mouth and so I dutifully take a piece of bread and run it around the lip of the container to mop it all up. First the outside and then the inside.

Seeing as I'm doing this at my desk the doctor is in so to speak and people keep popping by the IT office. Picture me trying to help the Dean's wife with her husband's Blackberry when suddenly I'm startled by this cool sensation down by my crotch. I look down and I'm slowly pouring the marinara sauce into my lap because in my efforts to wipe the last bit of sauce off the inside of the container I had tilted it way over; too far over.

She was like, "Oh, I can see you are in the middle of your lunch, how about I come back later...?"

No...! I said something like, "Just leave the Blackberry here and I'll have it back to you in a jiffy." I reach for the first thing that seems capable of scooping sauce off my jeans and it's a card Shelley sent me long ago. But it's glossy (so hopefully the sauce will not damage it) and it's rigid enough so I grab it. As the Dean's wife is walking out of the office I'm left trying to scrape all this mess off my pants and be super subtle about it. Not.

Then I have to run to the bathroom to grab a bunch of paper towels, wet them down and start the dabbing process in what is always a futile attempt to make it look like this never happened. Of course that is not what happens and instead I emerge from the bathroom with a big, wet stain on my jeans right in the most embarrassing spot possible. Nice. All I can say is thank goodness I didn't have to give a talk or anything.

By now my jeans are mostly dry and it looks like the card survived. Whew...

Call me a cave dweller but I had never seen this before yesterday when I was driving Cameron to school. We passed by a construction site and one of the workers was running across the street to a mini mart and he had on a hard hat in the shape of a cowboy hat.

Nice.

What's the deal here? Is turning your traditional, old school hard hat around backwards just not hip enough? Or is the classic rock version of the hard hat and it's been around for years - it's just that I have never seen it. I'm betting that's the case...

A quick Google search confirms that you can get a hard hat in any color you want, with any graphics, but they only come in the standard shape (with some slight variations) and the cowboy hat. And I could not help but notice that all the 'models' sporting the cowboy hard hat had a mustache. It seems somehow perfect.

It really does come to your frame of reference. If I was on a construction site and saw someone with a cowboy hard hat they would be subjected to endless ribbing. Which obviously proves that I have never been on any construction site in my life. If this guy can get away with that hat in one of the most narrow minded, homophobic, blinders on when it comes to style communities it has got to be a cool thing to do. Not so cool that everyone is doing it mind you, you've gotta know the young construction crowd prefers the Ken Griffey look but still, to be able to pull that off...

One word: balls

Some more: doesn't travel outside of his social circle much

I love the bus.

Tons of people I know hate riding the bus; or any form of public transportation. They say it's weird, dirty, the people are freaky and stare at you, they don't want to be forced to sit next to the guy that smells like a bum or a sweaty tourist. I like to people watch and  believe you me, there are few places better than good old Metro.

ASIDE - these days everyone and their brother is plugged into their MP3 player so no one looks at you anyway. Toss loads of dark glasses into the mix on any sunny day and it's almost like being in a house of mirrors. You could not feel more alone.

So besides all the practical advantages of taking 'the second car' like not having to drive myself, my employer provides me with a dirt cheap pass and there happens to be a bus line that goes right to my work and drops me off about five blocks from home, I get to check out all the weird, dirty, smelly freaks that ride it with me.

And make no mistake, there are almost always some on board. Like three days ago. This guy was sitting a few rows in front of me and had on a knit cap. Only unlike most of the youth today who pull it all the way down so it practically obscures their eyes, this guy had it rolled all the way UP stylin' like Jacques Cousteau:

Never have I seen this style carried out to this extreme. This hat was rolled up so far it looked like a yarmulke.

What exactly does this (let's just call it what it is -  a fashion accessory) accomplish? It's covering about 10 percent of his head and if it actually were cold and windy the first strong gust would steal this skull decoration no problem. Watches, belts, glasses, purses, they all have a second purpose over and above being fashionable that is practical. This woolen thimble? Not so much.

I've always wondered about this particular fashion accessory... What look exactly is this person striving to achieve? The esoteric, French artist? Some overly dramatic cinematic stereotype of a sailor? Certainly not that of the  underwater researcher and SCUBA pioneer pictured above.

Towards the end of my bike ride yesterday a small group of us were finishing a lap of Mercer Island and we saw a woman walking her dog.

Now say what you will about Mercer Island but it's nothing if not

• white
• rich
• white (oops, I already said that...)
• inhabited by lots of badly aging empty nesters

And that is exactly what we saw. I believe "fully botoxed" were Dustin's exact words as we passed this woman who was walking her dog towards us. Let me set the scene.

Fur lined brown jacket, matching (but not fur lined - I don't think) brown pants, matching brown [insert expensive designer name here] handbag daintily perched on one arm, hair (colored to match the outfit so help me god) perfectly sprayed just so, makeup that would stand up to rock concert spotlights and of course skin that was way too smooth for this at least 50 something woman.

Don't get me wrong, nothing wrong with trying to keep yourself looking good and doing a little maintenance here and there but this was the full on puffy lips, apply the foundation with a trowel, no one EVER sees me as I really am hideous mask that gives me the creeps.

Two words: let go.

Two more: Jacqueline wannabe

Two more: Martin has an attitude problem

Well that's more than two but you get the idea.

The light switch in most cars has three positions. Off, parking lights and driving lights. True, lots of new cars out there now only give you the option of off, running lights (which is head lights on but no tail lights on) and regular old everything on. For all the other cars out there there is still that middle setting called "parking lights" because it only lights up these little, orange lights in the front and your tail lights in the rear.

Let's start by examining the name of this middle setting, PARKING lights. The intent was that if you pull over on the side of the road or up to someone's house in a dense neighborhood you could turn on your parking lights and 1) be safe so you are seen and no one plows into you by accident and 2) not offend anyone by shooting lasers into their eyes. Also, they are supposed to let oncoming cars recognize that you are parked and NOT actually moving. That way they can take appropriate action to avoid you. Lastly, when you turn on your parking lights, the interior lights in the car also go on so your gauges, etc. are lit up. This is nice in case you need to look at a map or whatever.

So, what clown started the trend of driving with these?

I don't understand the appeal... Is it supposed to make you look all understated and shit? "Look, I'm driving with my parking lights on so that you can tell I know it's getting dark out or the visibility is crap but I don't want to actually be seen or anything so my headlights are still off." Nice.

Hello...! Why does every automotive insurance company on the planet not only recommend you drive with your headlights on 24/7 but also give you a discount if your car has running lights? BECAUSE IT'S SAFER, THAT'S WHY. Car lights help you be seen, even in direct sun light. Doing a quick search showed me this:

• Austria - running lights are required 24/7 or you get fined.
• Denmark - ditto
• Estonia - ditto
• Finland - ditto
• Iceland - ditto
• Italy - ditto
• Croatia - ditto
• Lithuania - ditto
• Norway - ditto
• Sweden - ditto
• Slovenia -ditto

Germany has this bit of legislation up for a vote and in France and Switzerland it is recommended but not required to have your lights on all the time.

Why? Because it works, that's why.

Here is what I see all the time... It's dark. And I mean I'd tell you what time it is except I can't read my watch dark. What comes down the road? A car with only the parking lights on. You just KNOW that this genius turned them on when it was dusk 'cuz it's so damn cool/euro/whatever and then as it got darker they just never figured it out BECAUSE ALL THEIR GAUGES ARE ALREADY LIT UP. Sheesh. And if you plop this joker on a street that has street lights and the road is that kinda half-assed low light where you can't tell if your headlights are on or not, he'll never figure this out.

And mind you it isn't men that posses exclusive rights to this derangement, many times I have seen a women behind the wheel flaunting the same massive brain power.

It's been required on motorcycles for years, what's the hold up for cars?

Today while at the gym I saw him again. He's about 50 something years old and in pretty good shape really but...

• He always wears these hilarious black Tommy Bahama Fisherman Sandals instead of tennis shoes.

• All his shirts are really tight... Not so hot especially when your waist is not exactly like that of the Bowflex spokesperson.
• Although not a requirement for self-obsessed old gym prima dona, this guy is really, really hairy and obviously pretty proud of it based on the tight, v-neck shirts he wears.
• He spends as much time fixing his hair in the mirror as he does working out.
• His hair style of choice is classic John Travolta meaning it's HUGE, is incapable of existing without a blow dryer and requires lots of maintenance. Thank goodness he's up to that task.
• His hair, he keeps making sure every one is perfectly in place...
• Since it's all about him, of course he never re-racks his weights.
• Since it's all about how much you can lift, his form is atrocious.
• Since it's about chest and arms, well, he never does much of anything else. In fact, come to think of it, chest and arms are ALL I ever see him do.
• What's with the hair...? Enough already. You're at the gym and it's 5:30 in the morning! Who cares?
• He tans massively. Obsessively. Ridiculously. Two words: leather man. Two more: it's winter. Two more: nut bag.

About the only missing characteristic is an overpowering cologne but I have not been close enough to smell anything. That's a good thing I'm thinking.

Sadly, I used to be that guy... You know, the one that wears shorts way too long in the fall (or even the winter!) and who just can't roll with the seasons. It might be in the low 40s or even the upper 30s but they have on shorts.

Why? I wish I knew. Anyone who has traveled to Europe or most any other country will quickly discover that one sure-fire way to tell the tourists from the locals is to check what they are sporting below the waist. Shorts = tourist. All the time. I was in Rome, Italy once and it was quite warm, maybe 80 degrees and NO one had on shorts. Not even the college students, it's just not what you do.

America seems unique in these aspects; we all worried about being thin, tan and sporty. In other parts of the world it seems that people are accepted more for who they are. Not that there aren't divas in every country mind you, but if you had to paint with broad strokes America is freakville and any other place is normal. Don't we have the largest supplement and diet industry and don't we have the most obese people per capita? Freakville USA.

Anyway, there I am, walking to work a few days ago on the University of Washington campus. It's butt-ass [I love how you can put two words that mean the same thing together and it more clearly conveys the meaning] cold out, windy and here comes that guy. He's got on not only shorts but freakin' flip-flops. Oh sure, he has several layers covering his torso but what's with the shorts? You just know this guy never changes looks; ever. EVER. One outfit for all times, it's not only sensible but economical!

Not to be outdone buy this fashion-rutted guy, here comes an equally ignorant girl in the same outfit! You just know they are 1) freshman and 2) yet to have a real job.

Did I mention I used to be that guy...? Oh yes, I'm not getting off that easy. I recall one time when I was on a date in the middle of winter maybe 17 years ago, we went to get a beer and there was snow on the ground outside. What did I wear? Shorts. Jesus Christ.

I do not recall how I justified this outfit at the time, most likely I did not even think about it. And that's the problem - these people don't think. How many fashion faux pas could we avoid if we just stopped to think, even for a second. Is it so wrong to put on long pants if it's cold outside? Or if you are going to an event where it's not socially acceptable to wear jams?

You are either part of the problem or part of the solution.