Friday, May 06, 2005

Why I love the F(reak) train

Or maybe I hate it, I don't know. But I have two must-share stories, either way:

Mother...F(ucker)
Couple nights ago, I get on the F at 42nd after work, as I do every evening, and end up standing next to a very beautiful, noticeably pregnant woman. When the big crowd gets off at 34th Street, some greezy guy grabs the last open seat, clearly ignoring the prego chick. Asshole. She looks around fruitlessly for a seat, frowns a little, and sighs heavily. I'm watching this thinking, "hmmm...she's too shy to ask someone to move, even though someone should have moved WITHOUT HER ASKING, fer christssakes." So I decide to be a good New Yorker (for once) and act on her behalf.

"Excuse me, sir," I say to the greezy dude. He looks at me with slackjawed confusion, probably at having been called "sir." I smile a little.

"Could you let the lady have your seat please?"

"Wha' happen?" he replies, still slackjawed, as if I had spoken to him in Aramaic.

"This woman (motioning to her) is pregnant. Please allow her to sit down." Smile again.

He looks at me...looks at her...gets goggle-eyed looking at her for a second (she really is something), looks at me again with dawning comprehension, his face all mashed up like he just crapped his pants, looks back at her, and finally, grudgingly, hauls his bony ass up out of the seat.

"Would you like to sit, miss?" he asks her sweetly. (grrrrrr)

"No thanks!" she says, turns to me, and GLARES. I mean like piercing, "I hate you, you effing bee-word", wicked nasty dagger eyes. Suddenly she's not so pretty, and now it's my jaw's turn to drop.

"Wha...don't you wanna sit?" I manage to stammer in my flabbergastation, aware now that I look like a complete meddling asshole-head.

"NO. It's FINE!" She whips around dramatically so her back is to me.

"Whatever you say." Wow! And now I can feel redness in my face...for trying to be (vurp) NICE. Until...

Until the car crowds up so much at the next stop that no one can breathe, and she ends up wedged in between six pushy-shovey assholes, covering her big belly protectively with her arm and looking utterly miserable. WHO'S THE ASSHOLE-HEAD NOW, LADY?? HUH???

Moral of the story: Use birth control.

F(ecal) Japan
This morning I'm kickin' it on the F on the way to work, loaded down with luggage for Vegas, mindin' my own bidness. One stop into Manhattan, a vaguely pretty Japanese woman, thirty-ish, boards and stands holding the pole in front of my seat. She looks normal enough, however I notice that she's got something in her mouth that she's moving around rather vigorously. I feel my left eyebrow arch in curiosity and a smidge of disdain, as it is wont to do.

Now, of course, it's hard not to stare. I admittedly tend to be a bit of a starebug anyway...but what the fuck is in her MOUTH? She's got this big square jaw, and it's grinding all OVER the place like there's something ALIVE in there, jesus!

And then, as I'm openly gawking...she pushes the object with her tongue so that it's now poking out of her mouth a half-inch or so. This object is brown, semi-cylindrical in shape, and looks kind of...squishy.

Maybe I'm just disturbed. Maybe it's the plethora of Asian scat porn that's made its way onto Craigslist this week. But it looks for the life of me like this otherwise normal-seeming woman is pushing a turd out of her mouth, right there on the goddamn train. The fact that she's pursing her lips around it, sphincter-like, is NOT.HELPING.

As if that isn't enough...she then proceeds to SUCK IT IN AND OUT OF HER MOUTH, REPEATEDLY. I mean...does she not know that she's re-creating the normally at least semi-private act of TURTLEHEADING on the SUBWAY at EIGHT in the MORNING with her MOUTH???

I, for once, am utterly speechless. I don't know which is going to erupt first...my hysterics or my breakfast. I drop my head, trying to pull away...but Turdmouth is like a MAGNET and I CANNOT...BREAK...FREE. She notices me staring. AND DOESN'T STOP.

We go on for three more stops like this, Turdmouth mouthing her turd, me fixated like Michael Jackson watching Home Alone...Finally, she sucks the turd back in with this awful noise..."slup"... and ambles off the train like nothing happened. I'm left behind, eyes glazed and staring, mouth agape, my funny fuse busted once and for all.

Moral of the story: Use birth control.

Back next week with much better stories than those, hopefully. Wish Vegas luck...

7 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ass-hole heads and turds?

Nice...

Have a great time... make sure you get the freak out.

2:49 PM  
Anonymous coco said...

fak-- that is the funnist thing I have ever read. xoxo

3:05 PM  
Anonymous glenn said...

Thank you for making me laugh on a Sunday night. I totally agree that birth control is underrated. It's a shame that it isn't retroactive, occasionally.

8:36 PM  
Blogger Anna said...

You are so freakin' funny I can't even deal. I LOVE the moral of these stories (and the fact that you used the word "turtlehead," which is hilarious), and agree with glenn that it's too bad it isn't retroactive.

11:08 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Okay, first of all you said an Asian broad was almost attractive. Second, I have noone to share my bowel movements with until you get home. And C - I missed the drunken call and you didn't leave a message. I'm gonna go cry like you read about in sad sad books (obviously books on tape since I can't read.) - Big D

2:42 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I can't believe you just said 'turtleheading'. And as for preggy princess, maybe she was just fat. - Charles

1:16 PM  
Blogger farmboyz said...

You're a girl?! Finally a girl who can write. Pardon the misogyny but it's unusual. I mean you got balls in your words but without losing the fem thing. I'm engaged by it. Flannery O'Connor, and that other Brooklynite, Carson McCullers, are smilin' down on ya.

9:31 PM  

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