Yes, I was a bit of a lazy ass last week. Let’s move on, shall we?
A couple of Fridays ago, I got on the train to go home from work. I was thrilled because my favorite seat was available. See, on the regular cars, there’s a place where there are two seats, and then the seat in front of them is turned sideways. It’s perfect for putting your feet up, if there aren’t a bunch of people on the train. As this was a Friday, there were a bunch of people on the train, and this wasn’t even remotely an option. I, without thinking, sat there anyway.
What I didn’t take into account were the people sitting behind me. They were talking loudly to each other.
Here’s the conversation that first caught my attention. They had it at THIS VOLUME.
First Dude: “How do you know when the sex is good?”
Woman, giggling: “I know.”
Second Dude: “Uh…when you nut?” (Oh, the eloquence…)
Woman: “When your pussy is still wet the next day. When you can’t walk. When you have bruises.”
Second Dude: “What kind of sex you be havin’, girl?”
Let me reiterate: This entire conversation was at shouting level. In my ear.
I tried valiantly to read a book, but who can concentrate with pussy talk in their ear? And then I got to hear all about their friend Kim’s* haircut. You see, Slim saw Kim at work and noticed she got a new haircut. He didn’t like it, but he told her it was “different.”
The woman informed him that Kim was out sick that week, and she hadn’t even been at work.
Slim just knew he had seen her, because her hair was so different! It looked like crap, he almost didn’t recognize her. But she had talked to him like she knew him!
The woman called Kim to verify that Kim was, indeed, out sick. And she was. Whoever Slim had talked to, it wasn’t Kim! But it looked just like her! Slim was so confused. He was going to go “confront that bitch” and find out “why she pretend she knew me.”
The woman, still on the phone with Kim (the real one, who has apparently not cut her hair) told Slim that girl “be playin’ him.”
Slim was mightily upset about this.
Somewhere near the halfway point of my train journey, a couple of other men got on the train. One of them started randomly yelling at strangers, to ask how tall they were. “Hey boy! Hey boy! How tall are you, boy?”
The boy tried to ignore him, but the yelling man wouldn’t give up. The boy finally just shrugged his shoulders and the yelling man and his friend dissolved into giggles.
Shortly after that, and let me mention that it was about 90 degrees on this train, it was packed to the gills, and more than one of its occupants was not acquainted with the shower, someone got on the train wearing so pungent a perfume or cologne that my headache (caused by a woman’s pussy and not-really-Kim’s haircut) immediately got worse.
That person sat down right next to me.
I managed to make it off the train without incident (and by that I mean, going postal), but it was a very close call.
*I’m calling her Kim, because I can’t remember her name. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Kim, though.