I Pity The Fool

Hey everyone- all two people who read this anyway. ;)  I know I haven’t written lately, and for that I apologize.  It’s not that I don’t love you, dear reader(s); nor is it that my life has lately included a paucity of amusing anecdotes.  Far from it.  I’ve simply been too busy, plus when you have someone staying with you, it can be rude to sit at the computer too long…  However, the eagle has now flown (F. has returned to Italy), and I will now have plenty of alone-time to spend like a sad, sad geek on the "Interweb."

In the meantime, a few recent experiences that have in common the wonderful world of subway nuttiness:

1) Two women arguing about whether it’s okay to push each other on the train.  One said that it is to be expected, or else you should just take your car to work, and added that she didn’t mind being pushed even though she was pregnant.  The other said it was not necessary to push so hard, she didn’t have a car, and felt the need to retort that she was NOT stupid.  Several times.  I don’t know about you, but I sure do care whether random idiots on the 4 train hold my intellect in the proper regard.  It ended with Pregnant loudly declaring that she would pray for Pointless’s stupidity, and Pointless shrieking that that would be fine because she was a Catholic.

2) I don’t even know what started this one, but two women in their 50s or so got into an argument, on the morning commute like the previous story.  One was getting off the train, and the other was screeching after her that she needed to act her age.  Off-the-train responded with something completely unintelligible, and On-the-train began to declaim that the former needed to go read her Bible, "’cause you got the devil in ya ass today!"  After the doors to the train closed, On-the-train looked around and continued to remark on the exchange, rather like a large, angry chicken of some kind.  Her last words on the subject were to the effect of, "I hope she don’t got grandchildren, ’cause she ain’t got SHIT to teach ‘em!!!"  Such language, coming from the mouth of a Bible-thumper, eh?

3) Loony bird man who spent the entire train ride engaged in a conversation with himself (until the end, I thought he was quietly singing along to an Ipod or something, only to realize he had neither gizmo nor earphones on).  In my line of work I see quite a lot of self-talk, only it’s usually either a child, or a psychotic adult responding to auditory hallucinations.  I can’t think of the last time I actually saw someone carrying on both sides of a conversation…whereas this particular fellow not only smacked his hand out of his mouth several times, but sternly admonished himself even when he wasn’t sucking his thumb.  Eventually, he got ready to exit the train at Grand Central, and loudly gave himself directions to Times Square several times.  With a twang.

4) Last but not least, the woman who sidled up to me at Jay St. yesterday while I was on my way home from the airport.  Being that she was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, dowdy skirt and shoes, and almost no jewelry or makeup, I took her for an Orthodox woman.  Hey, her hair could pass for a wig, plus it was about 95 degrees yesterday.  She had an accent I wasn’t sure about, but I thought maybe she was Israeli or something.  Anyhoo, she asked me to verify some directions somebody else had given her.  I explained in very plain language how to get where she was going.  She asked me again.  About four more times.  Finally, when satisfied, she started telling me the story of where she was coming from (the airport), why she was there (tickets were cheaper to buy), and a litany of related complaints (had stood on a line for 7 hours, wasted the whole day, hadn’t eaten anything because the food at the airport is too expensive, etc.  Personally, I’d have splurged but that’s just me.).  She repeated this story a couple of times.  I strongly considered lying about my route home and getting off the train after 1 stop, but I decided that was silly once the train finally came.  She insisted that I stand and later sit next to her, and started telling me all about her life and times, trials and tribulations.  She only got to tell me 2 or 3 stories though, because she was getting off the train in about 4 stops, and she needed to repeat each story at least once, then take a break to ask me the directions again.  Incidentally, I became pretty sure that she was not Orthodox, or even Jewish- just crazy and dressed inappropriately for the weather as a sign of it.  Long story short, she was essentially harmless, but isn’t it uncanny how these people seem to have radar to come up and talk to me when I’m minding my own business?  I doubt I’ll ever need to get cards printed up…all I have to do to drum up business is stand around in the subway station…though unfortunately, it all seems to be pro-bono.  Damn, I’m gonna have some good karma stored up for the next life.

i was thinking, maybe i don’t have to get older.  instead of turning 26 yesterday, what if i turned 24 instead?  the problem with this theory is of course that, aside from being impossible, i’d eventually turn into a baby and then disappear (around the time all my former friends were paying off their mortgages and sending their own kids off to college), after i’d successively turned too young to buy alcohol, vote, drive a car, and eat solid food…

26 better be a good year, damnit.

it is off to a good start though, i must say.  my friend mike and i actually share the birthday, and had an intimate gathering involving bowling, diner food, and karaoke.  i never thought of myself as someone who’d really get into karaoke, but then again who can say no to bon jovi and blondie after 7 watered-down cocktails? ;)  a good time was had by all, or at least most -a certain italian was complaining a bit, and i discovered that one of his 3 (!) simultaneous jobs before coming stateside was at a karaoke bar (i’d thought it was just a regular pub).  but even he grudgingly acknowledged that it was diverting in some way.

he also had claimed he was going to kick all my friends’ asses at the bowling alley, but even yours truly beat him in one of the games.  i have yet to see the ass-kicking, and informed him that he talked too much trash.

apropos of the birthday, i think my lamest party ever was either in 8th grade, when i thought it would be cool to invite my whole class to eat ice cream at Jackson Hole on the upper east side (it wasn’t), OR my 19th birthday, right after freshman year.  that party was weird because most of the people who attended weren’t really friends with each other: if there had been fewer people, they sort of would have been forced to chill and get to know each other; if there had been more people, there would have been at least ONE person for each guest to talk to.  sadly, not the case.

this was one of the better birthdays, i would say; right up there with the infamous water fights of my hchs days, the make-your-own-pizza party at Two Boots for my sweet 16, and that time when my uncle mike who isn’t really my uncle showed up and did magic tricks for all my friends (when i turned 8 or 9).  on the whole, a good deal. 

as usual, my aunt got me something weird and completely not my taste, and my dad’s family all yelled at each other over the cake last night.  on the plus side, this year my mom forgot to take the requisite annual hideous picture of me blowing out the candles.  SCORE!

i think there are already enough of those in the world to last for quite some time.

cheers!