Thursday, October 29, 2009
Paying It Forward
You can toootally have a salad with eggs and bacon and chicken and Caesar dressing for lunch. It's a SALAD! Anyway, you'll probably have something really healthy for dinner while you're out drinking tonight.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Pulling The Trigger
Tonight was the night of forced transfers. 1 train, 110th to 96th. Unforced transfer to 3 train. 3 train to 42nd. Forced transfer to 2. 2 train randomly terminates at Chambers. Time check, 12:30am, and a full train has just dumped onto a full platform.
A train shows up, and goddamn it, people start shoving. Shoving to get on to a train at 12:30 in the goddamn morning, because this is New York and there are too many fucking people here.
I end up buried at the end of a car, and that's when it chimes in:
You know you can solve this, right? Just give the throat a little tickle. From the inside. Puke nice and hard right here on the floor and you'll have more space than you know what to do with...
Shhh, shhh... quiet, baby --it's no fun if I listen every time.
A train shows up, and goddamn it, people start shoving. Shoving to get on to a train at 12:30 in the goddamn morning, because this is New York and there are too many fucking people here.
I end up buried at the end of a car, and that's when it chimes in:
You know you can solve this, right? Just give the throat a little tickle. From the inside. Puke nice and hard right here on the floor and you'll have more space than you know what to do with...
Shhh, shhh... quiet, baby --it's no fun if I listen every time.
The Couch
The couch is a motherfucker.
You're lying there, relaxing with your back all curled to shit against the arm of a loveseat. As young-adult scoliosis sets in, you gorge yourself on comfort and Teddy Grahams. The clock on the cable box shows 11pm. Daily Show, Colbert, sweet.
Now it's midnight. Home Movies reruns? Sure. 12:30. You yawn, body eager to slip out of consciousness, and your brain says, Check the DVR. I bet you've got some real funny shit on there.
12:37 rolls through and you're blacked out in front of last week's Office, arm draped over your face, neck jammed at a right angle.
Congratulations, brain, you win.
At 3:00 you will wake up in a cold sweat, and you will drag your sorry, tired ass to the bathroom and then to bed. You will wake up at 8:00 feeling like complete shit, utterly confused by the lucid zombie apocalypse dream you just snapped out of (thanks again, brain).
Either I secretly love watching TV through my eyelids or my brain hates me. Can't tell.
So here's hope that "scoliosis" is just a secret codeword for "awesome."
You're lying there, relaxing with your back all curled to shit against the arm of a loveseat. As young-adult scoliosis sets in, you gorge yourself on comfort and Teddy Grahams. The clock on the cable box shows 11pm. Daily Show, Colbert, sweet.
Now it's midnight. Home Movies reruns? Sure. 12:30. You yawn, body eager to slip out of consciousness, and your brain says, Check the DVR. I bet you've got some real funny shit on there.
12:37 rolls through and you're blacked out in front of last week's Office, arm draped over your face, neck jammed at a right angle.
Congratulations, brain, you win.
At 3:00 you will wake up in a cold sweat, and you will drag your sorry, tired ass to the bathroom and then to bed. You will wake up at 8:00 feeling like complete shit, utterly confused by the lucid zombie apocalypse dream you just snapped out of (thanks again, brain).
Either I secretly love watching TV through my eyelids or my brain hates me. Can't tell.
So here's hope that "scoliosis" is just a secret codeword for "awesome."
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