Originally Posted: 2004-07-26 4:31pm
The Girl on the Subway
Stare too long and she’ll think I’m a freak, a psycho, perhaps even a stalker. But I must steal another glimpse. I’m guessing she’s either a personal assistant or an impersonal escort. Either way, she’s somebody’s whore. Wait, why am I defaming her character? Is it because she hasn’t returned my glare? Hasn’t offered a hint of affection? A smile, that’s all I’m asking for. Not a grin or a look of glee, but a simple yes-you-do-exist smile.
I can tell by the way she’s holding the pole that she probably moonlights at one of those ‘All Nude’ bars near JFK. If I’m lucky, we’ll hit a subway dwelling rat, causing just enough turbulence to make her swing around the pole a couple of times. I’d throw her a buck. Actually, I only have some loose change in my pocket and I wouldn’t want to throw a quarter for fear of hitting the kid who just won’t shut the hell up.
The kid’s mom looks like she would need to be accompanied by an adult in order to see a PG-13 movie. When I was her age, a game of doctor resulted in premature ejaculation, not premature brats. I know I shouldn’t call the kid a brat. But if that were my kid. Well, if that were my kid he’d probably be in therapy. At least the kid is admirable enough to drive the ‘Tie Guy’ nuts. The kid deserves a Happy Meal for that. But not the Happy Meal prize, cause he’s still a little brat.
Tie Guy is reading the Wall Street Journal, for affect I might add. He’s been puckering up the entire ride, probably getting ready for a day of ass kissing. I want to tell him that no matter what Brooks and his Brothers say, pink is not his color, or any guy’s color for that matter. Wait a minute! Is that a wedding ring? He must have just gotten back from Vermont, or else his wife is destined to be the subject of a Lifetime made-for-television movie. At least Tie Guy has the decency to spare some change for the drooling, wild-eyed vagrant who just got on. Sucker!
I saw this same guy last week on the 6-train. He gave the same exact, word-for-word, gut-wrenching, vomit inducing speech. What a shocker. He’s still out of work. Still has Aids. He’s still a recovering addict and still loves Jesus, Mohammed, Regis and any other God that might guilt you into giving him some money. There must be a college accredited class you can take somewhere on how to give a good panhandling speech, cause they all seem to have the Cliff’s Notes. A good way to spot a tourist is to see the glimmer of sympathy they have in their eyes when these speeches are recited. That is, if you failed to notice their fanny packs.
Welcome to the Jungle fanny packers. Isn’t it cute how your entire family matches? Mom, don’t be scared that’s just a black man. No, Sis, he isn’t Puff Daddy. Wow, how original, you’re all wearing your token “I love NY’ T-shirts. You don’t love it. You don’t love the Jews, the Hispanics, the African Americans, the Asians, the liberals, the homosexuals, the pro choicers, the porn on every corner, the city that always sleeps with each other before marriage, the 10 commandment breaking, sin sipping, night tripping, Jesus questioning, moral stomping New York. So have fun waving to the other pieces of white bread back home, while you’re screaming like buffoons outside the Today Show studio. Oh, and sorry about the wallet, it was too easy to resist.
Hey, I think she just smiled at me. God I love NY.
this is in or around Manhattan