Monday, May 01, 2006

I Am How the Terrorists Win.

The other night Brad and I were headed out on the train, probably around midnight. I can't remember what night it was, so I can't remember where we were headed, but the point of all this intro was that it was late enough for the D to be nearly empty. We got on in Brooklyn and Brad hooked himself up to his iPod like it was an IV dripping the antidote to irritating train conversation. I didn't have mine with me.

Halfway down the car two Chinese guys were having a conversation back and forth, but I wasn't paying much attention because I don't understand the language and couldn't eavesdrop. The other thing I was trying not to pay attention to was the crazy, or drunk, or crazy and drunk man sitting a few seats away from the guys having the conversation. When I got on the train he was sort of mumbling, but by the time we hit the Manhattan bridge he was full-on yelling crazy stuff and I was trying to will Brad's eyes open with psychic laser beams to communicate, through winks and wriggling eyebrows, that we would be relocating to a different part of the train at the next stop.

I was afraid to look over at the yeller because the last thing you want to do is catch a crazy's eye and make them think they've found a sympathetic audience. I've made this mistake too often, usually when traveling alone on the train. I hear someone talking to, say, God, and then I absolutely have to look over, and then they notice me, and then they're all, "You know what I mean? You love the Lord? The Lord loves YOU, white girl!" It's a bad situation.

So I didn't look over when he started yelling at the two Chinese guys to shut up because THIS IS HIS COUNTRY. HE WAS BORN HERE. To their credit, the guys took it totally in stride and just ignored him, but that didn't stop him from telling everyone that he had BEEN TO CHINA, FRANCE, EUROPE, RUSSIA, CHINA, AND FRANCE, and he WOULD STAB EVERY FAGGOT ON THIS TRAIN.

When the train finally hit Grand street Brad and I slipped into the next car and got to our destination in relative peace.

It wasn't until last night that I realized I totally sacrificed a car full of potential stabees to get to, like, Lit on time. Here is a man, clearly expressing his desire to inflict harm on the delicate flesh of D-train passengers, and my first impulse was to switch cars and let Crazy carry out his blood orgy sans my annoying disapproval. Telling the conductor was about as wise an option to me at the time as sitting on Crazy's lap and asking him for a bedtime story. They would stop the train. I would have to wait for another train.

"If you see something, say something." How many times have you seen that poster? I saw something. Then I hissed, "We'removingtothenextcarthisguyispissingmeoff." Homeland Security must want to punch me right in the head.

But whatever, I'd like to see them try. If I saw six guys in suits all sitting together in one car, I'd probably move.

1 Comments:

Anonymous anonymousmom said...

the chinese guys are grown men. they could have changed cars too. after all, they were still alive at grand.

7:25 AM  

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