I took the subway home from work this week and ran into several situations that reminded me of why I absolutely loathe taking the subway. I hate it so much that I am considering eliminating a few people at work to open up a parking spot in the lot so I can drive to work. But I probably shouldn't have told you that...right?...forget I ever mentioned it...
Aaaaaaanyway. Back to the crazy people on the train. There have been stories of my subway fiascos. Some, such as "The Chalk Incident," have even been dubbed legendary. Well, a new legend was almost born this week.
It all started when I started wearing high heels to work again. It had been months since I did so, and my poor dogs were CRYING after the third day. As I boarded the 5 train, I did my usual seat-scan and spotted an available seat but a man was standing in front of it. I walked over to assess the situation and the man noticed me glancing at the spot and asked if I wanted to sit. I thanked him, nestled into the spot and relaxed. I wish I could end the story there, but no. Because it was at this point that a very ghetto-looking woman with a small child of around 3 years old walked over to our area. The baby immediately began to bawl, her cries piercing the silence of the surprisingly quiet yet packed train car. The man who let me sit was reading a book and at that point, he threw his head back in exasperation and sighed...BIG MISTAKE. Ms. Ghetto Fabulous Mom-of-the-Year noticed his annoyance and threw a FIT. She started screaming that she would slap him/punch him in his mouth/rearrange his face etc. etc. etc. (she used some other choice words, but I'm keeping this a family-friendly environment here, folks). The man ignored her, so she tells her baby the cry LOUDER...
"Cry, chile! Cry harder den you ever did! Dis man actin' like he ain't never heard a baby cry before! Keep cryin'! Why you stoppin' girl?!? I want you to CRY!!! CRYYY!!!"
Awwwwwkwaaaaard. The whole car was quiet and the man continued to ignore her, so she says (and this is really where it got interesting), "Yeah, Imma f*** him up first an' den Imma slap his girlfriend there right in her mouf, too!"
Girlfriend. Hm. Wait...who??? ME?!?!?
Oh good gravy, why do these crazy people attract themselves to me like mosquitoes to a light source? There was no WAY I was going to have this Flava of Love Reject go off on ME, so I immediately responded, "Uh...exCUSE me?? I don't THINK so."
Okay, so it wasn't my most snappy comeback, but it got the job done. She seemed to realize pretty quickly that we weren't together and started snapping on him again, leaving me alone. But still...what the hell? I must have a "Psychos Welcome" sign on my back because this is not the first time this kind of wackiness has happened to me...and I doubted it will be the last.
And I was right. Not five minutes later, I had another incident as I exited the subway station and began walking home. Again, I'll keep this fairly family-friendly (hello, alliteration), but I will tell you that I was propositioned by a man who called me his "Sexy Snowflake." He then proceeded to say things that the FCC should bleep out and fine me for posting. Creepy random people.
That reminds me...I haven't seen Peaches yet this school year! For those who don't know, Peaches is an old, homeless crack addict who hangs out near my job. He used to say hi to me in the morning and compliment me...but he was always very polite about it. He used to call ME "Peaches" and somehow I started calling HIM "Peaches" back. No reason why. I haven't seen him in a while though...hope he's ok.
Before I let you all go and you realize you just wasted the last 10 precious minutes of you life reading this nonsensical dribble, I figured I'd throw in the last strange encounter I had that same day...
After Big Momma and the Snowflake, I had pretty much had it with humanity and couldn't wait to curl up in the safety of my own home...with it's window bars and house alarm. But a block away from my house, I stopped in my tracks. I stood not two feet away from some kind of furry woodland creature. It was larger than my own Merlin, rodentish but was obviously not a rat (shockingly), and it was apparently up for a staring contest. After about fifteen seconds, I tried to slowly take my phone out to get a pic of my little buddy and he scurried off under a house. I had no idea what he was and when I came home, I immediately googled all of the creatures I thought it might be.
Gopher? No...my buddy was larger.
Mole? Nope...and by the way, those are some scary-looking animals! (plus, doing a Google search will also provide you with images of people WITH moles. Like, on their face. Grody.)
Hedgehog? Not so spiky.
Beaver? Nuh-uh...the tail wasn't flat.
Finally, I had a winner. He was a GROUNDHOG. I named him Gary. More than anything, I am shocked that I would run into such a critter in my neighborhood of all places. And also, I was embarrassed to realize that until this point, I pretty much had no idea what the difference was between a gopher, mole, and groundhog. And now I do. Well, sorta.
So in the end, I ran into a bunch of losers that day, but made a new camera-shy friend. Of course, there's always the chance Gary may have rabies, but I'm sure our new friendship can overcome such a hurdle.
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