Ginny: No no I can’t date Craig, nope…
Dan: Why not – things were going ok I thought…
Ginny: No yeah but we were on the subway and he pulled out one of those word search puzzle books- apparently he does them all the time…how can I date someone who still does word searches, you know?
Dan: Wait, what??
So what’s next folks? Keep the play alive!
Yeah the laugh-track seems outdated but once you get past that, you’ll realize what a gem this series is…well, yeah, but, no but, yeah no, cause I would never say that!
So my good buds Andrew, Matteo and I get off at some unnamed subway-station that felt like a hub for a lot of different trains, but also sort of in the middle of nowhere (Broadway Junction?).
And we were on the third floor but had to get down to ground level so we easily jumped onto the back of a moving train to get down (i remember that rush feeling of falling but also being in control), but we didn’t get inside this train since it was an “O” train (bright orange insignia) and we needed the 4-5-6 I think. As we jumped down, some MTA lady (that looked like a man) yelled at us, and I remember thinking, “Wow, this is the first time I’ve ever gotten in trouble for doing this.”
So while we’re waiting for the train, (and this is the part of the dream that really stuck out) some older lady in a motorized cart comes zipping by on the tracks (which weren’t sunken underground but were on our level). Yeah she was just whizzing along as if in her own personal subway car. I look confused at the MTA woman (who looked like a man) and she gives me one of those hand gestures like she’s saying, “Hey don’t ask me, this world has gone crazy.”
All of a sudden, two more people in carts pass by like nobody’s business. And one of them, as she’s zipping along, drops her slipper, which gives me a chance to get a better look at her.
Yeah, she’s pretty old, not wearing too much but you can’t see anything since she’s sitting in her motorized cart. On her hands and feet were these gloves/slippers that looked like skin, and there was a bunch of hair on them, so it was sort of like she was wearing men’s slip-on hands and feet (almost like Frodo-feet but much less hair). Also she was chanting: “Oh demonos monene” etc, some kind of latin gibberish thing- monk-like chanting, you know.
Just then, the train starts to come and I get all nervous because I think it might hit the chanting lady – but it misses her- and the dream ended…
So we’ve already established that I’m a two-stepper, which makes it even worse when I’m stuck behind “a defeated,” or one who walks super slowly up the stairs because he/she has given up on life (for one reason or another), but nonetheless blocks the way for the rest of us. I feel like I always encounter defeated’s transferring from the L train to the A-C-E during my morning commute.
Yeah we all know it’s early, it’s clammy and humid, life sort of stinks in a certain way sometimes, but to take out on the rest of us (is plain wrong) – us, who just want to get to the subway platform, to get to work, to waste away our own lives, in our own way, and at our own speeds. I’ve told a few people this (with limited response but nonetheless), that there should totally be “a defeated’s-lane” for all stairwells, so that these people who seem to think they have nowhere to go, who are in no rush to get anywhere fast, have a safe, controlled place to wallow, while we in-a-rush-for-no-reason-ers can get on with our days, two, maybe even three steps at a time. Yikes. Is that insensitive?
This may be “old hat” but I’m still constantly amazed at the lengths that certain men go in public to let women (they think are attractive) know that they in fact think they’re attractive.
For example, I was getting in at the Lorimer stop subway crossing the street next to a nice-looking-gal in a green sun-dress, right in front of a guy in a really large semi-truck. Granted, he was stopped at a red light, but this did not deter him from honking his loud horn a few times (step 1), then taking off his seatbelt (step 2) and actually opening the passenger door to his truck (step 3), inviting the female to join him on his journey to the depot, the quarry, or wherever he was headed.
And all of these whistles, these anguished male-cries of “Damn!” and “Baby you kill me” in the direction of sassy women, make me think these come-ons are more about courtesy, the acknowledgment of a woman’s got-it-going-on-ness rather than real attempts at courtship (or even good old fashioned intercourse). Yeah, ovbiously I’ve never been a victim of a hoot or a holler (and probably never will be), but isn’t there something refreshing and almost expected about this primitive form of appreciation? I, for one, want to see what these heteros will do next! Or is this business just completely debasing and offensive? Nonetheless, for me, it constantly amazes.
Check out more nifty animations from David Firth at Fat-Pie.com.