*Subway Series* ~Dinner time Edition~

It's freezing. I'm bundled up in a long wool coat and I'm wearing 6in heels with no tights or socks.


I've just left visiting my brother who's doing well and that has me in good spirits.

The train arrives and it's not super crowded. I snuggle into a seat and close my eyes as Capleton sings an accapella reggae song in my ears.

After a few tops a trio of loud, young women get onto the train. Two sit beside me and one stands... In front of me. I ask her if she'd like to sit. She declines. They carry on their loud conversation. I can't hear exactly what they're saying because my music is at maximum volume. But you know the type. Loud and ghetto. Head full of weave. Their conversation is more a show for the people around them than an actual conversation. They are on the heavy side and wearing cheap, ill fitting clothes. I grimace.

Heavy #2 and Heavy #3 (the two sitting on the seat to my right) are staring to the left in my direction. I slowly turn my head, nostrils flared and look over at them realizing they are looking past me. Heavy #1 is holding up a plastic bag with a Styrofoam food container.

I look to the end of the train car to see an older homeless man with salt and pepper hair, wearing a flight jacket, and dingy jeans. He's holding a tattered Dunkin Donuts cup which he's shaking as he makes his way to the other end of the car where the three heavies and I are.

There appears to be a bit of a problem. I turn down my music. As heavy # 1 holds the bag out to him he says, "Look miss, I'm a human being. I'm not gonna come running for the food" Heavy #2 screams, "But that ain't the point. Is you gonna eat the food. Cause if you gonna throw it away I can keep it." He sucks his teeth. As do I. She's not even the one with the food.

At that very moment another homeless man enters the train with a Dunkin Donuts cup. He's a younger man and doesn't look as if he's been homeless for very long. While the older, harder looking man argues with Heavy #2, Heavy #1 walk over to the younger guy and offers him the food, saying if he's going to discard it she would keep it. He gladly accepts and sits in a corner to eat it as the old guy turns around, highly annoyed at the exchange with Heavy #2, to take the plate. Realizing it has been given to someone else he groans and curses and storms off the train.

The 3 Heavies laugh, as do I. It was a bit comical. Heavy #3 asks of Heavy #1, "Why did u do that to that man?" Hand on hip, neck moving she says, "I didn't like his fuckin' attitude"



The moral of the story? Beggars shouldn't be choosy...or have an attitude.



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

"Subway Series" ~Weekend Edition~

I'm a tropical baby. I hate to be cold. Winter can kiss my ass.


I've become spoiled. Everywhere I've gone lately has been in the comfort of a car.

It's the weekend. I despise the train on the weekend but my God son is almost here. It's party time! Well, shower time. Lol.

I'm rushing because I'm supposed to help set up. My make-up is simple but effective. My hair is a curly mess and I pin it up away from my face. I slide into my fur collared tweed coat, which falls just below my knees. It's a bitter 30 something degrees. I walk briskly to the train.

There are few people scattered about the platform. The train is approaching. It flies past the stop on the middle track. I roll my eyes as I read the signs posted: "Take downtown train and transfer to uptown service." I look at the people waiting on the platform and wonder how long they've been standing there as I run down the stairs to catch the train arriving across the platform to ride downtown a few stops and head back up.

I'm annoyed. The soulful tunes, playing in my ears, aren't doing much to calm me as multiple trains arrive and leave on the downtown side. Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen pass. The wind is whipping across my face and flapping my coat as I stand on the crowded platform with the other disgruntled commuters. A train arrives. Not my train of course.

A few minutes later my train arrives. We all bustle onto the train. I slide into a seat and watch the train fill quickly. The train leaves the station. I hear a few raised voices above my music. I look over and see two heavyset, middle aged women with bad weaves and lots of shopping bags engaged in what seems to be a playful conversation. (One of them is smiling) I lean back in my seat. The voices seem to be amplified. WTH?! I Notice the other passengers moving to my side of the train. I look around but it's become too crowded.

Then I see them. The same GROWN women who were having a heated discussion were obviously arguing a have now begun fist fighting.

My eyes open wide and my jaw drops in amazement. Are they serious? The are bouncing from one side of the train car to the other like a ping pong ball making their way through to my side of the train. Everyone moves further right. I remain seated, staring, and shaking my head with shame and embarrassment for these women. They are directly in front of me. They fall in my lap and almost pin me against the wall. I push them with all my strength off of me. They remain interlocked, pulling hair and throwing the occasional punch. I'm mortified. I scream, "Somebody do something!" I hear an older West Indian woman's voice say, "Separate them", then one brave West Indian man springs into action. He tries to separate them to no avail. Another man joins him. They have no success.

Finally they are separated. The African woman sits back in her seat, hair askew, clothes rumpled, while the other continues to try to go around the men who are blocking her way. She's yelling obscenities and pacing. She snatches off her coat and hat and throws it onto the empty seat beside me. This goes on for a few minutes before the first man says, "You want to fight so much fight me. Fight me." She is still trying to get to the other woman.

I hear a child's voice pleading, “Mommy stop it, please". OMG, she has a CHILD with her? The other woman is saying in a very heavy African accent, "I don't even know her. She's crazy"

Finally, the raging bull puts her coat back on and gathers her things while saying, "I'ma fuck her up. I don't care. Watch. I'ma get off whatever stop she gets off."

The train finally stops and they get off. Everyone is peeking out the windows and doors to see if she is going to keep her promise.

The doors close and the train pulls out of the station. The discussion starts. Everyone in the car joins in and gives their opinion.

One man says, "You gotta hustle. This ain't a game" I learn that the fight began over a seat. 

*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

"Subway Series" *Late Night Edition*

I never take the train at night because that's when the real freaks come out.


It's late night. A friend and I have just left a venue on the east side and we decide to take the train to save 40 or 50 bucks.

We're not waiting long before the train comes and we board for two stops and then transfer to the express.

The train arrives quickly seeming a bit crowded for this time of night.

We racial profile and stand in front of a group of women who are obviously tourists who will exit at Times Square.

As soon as we sit we look at each other and giggle because we've both have scanned the other passengers and every seems crazy and they seem to be staring.

At the next stop a man boards with a keyboard.

He places his stool directly in front of me. I look over at my friend in disgust and she busts out laughing. I roll my eyes and shake my head and prepare to kick him just as a man standing by the door offers his space to him.

He turns on his keyboard as he starts his speech, "I'm just out here tryna make an honest living by using my talents." He presses a button and the demo music starts. He slides a few buttons and taps his fingers on a few keys. He repeats this a few more times. My friend and I exchange looks. "What the fuck is he doing?" "He's a fraud. This is not honest!" We bust out laughing.

His act lasts about 5 minutes, then he turns off the keyboard and says, "I'm just tryna make an honest living" we bust out laughing again.

I hug my friend and exit the train to make yet another transfer. The train arrives and I take a seat across from a hip mom and her adult daughter.

The mother is whispering loudly, "Mi tell you fi stop drinking but you wan be grown han keep on." I look at the daughter. Her eyes are closed and she looks a little green around the gills. She coughs and her eyes water. I'm only two stops away from home so I go stand by the door. Looking at her is making me a bit nauseous. As soon as I walk to the door I hear a gag. I look over and the daughter projectile vomiting across the train onto the spot I just moved from. I turn away in disgust as the mom takes napkins and attempts to sop up the vomit. YUCK!



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

"Subway Series" *Three Amigo Edition*

It's sweltering. Dressed in short shorts, and high heels I know I'm risking being harassed and taking a chance riding the train but the sun is still shining and I'm trying to be economical. HA!


My attire is very regular aside from the short shorts so I become increasingly annoyed as every man, woman, child, cat and dog stares at me on my way to the train.

The train arrives. I board and take a seat beside an overweight woman who is yelling across the train to her overweight son. I roll my eyes and turn on my iPod.

The train arrives at the next stop and on walk three middle aged hispanic men who appear to think they are still in their 20s.

They are loud, laughing, and obnoxious. I feel my body tense preparing for a fight as the first guy notices me and taps the second who taps the third. They let out a roar of laughter, cat calls and hisses. My nostrils flare in embarrassment and anger as I wish I could disappear. I turn my music louder and close my eyes in an attempt to ignore their ridiculous behavior.

As fate would have it, my iPod dies. Fml! One guy is doing chin ups on the train pole as another recounts how he stole a coworkers cell phone. *bbm blank stare*

The train passes through the Bronx and into Manhattan and some pigment deficient woman board the train. They make lewd remarks about one woman who slowly scoots closer to me as if the "angry black woman" can somehow protect her. I feel bad for her but I'm relieved that their attention is off of me.

At another stop an old couple boards and they are immediately antagonized by the three amigos. One of the three amigos looks at me for approval with a big smile. I roll my eyes and mumble "Assholes".

The train is arriving at my stop. I stand and I hear, "Oh my God mami.", "Daaaamn". I cringe and give them the finger as I exit the train.
 
*ding dong*
Thank you for riding the MTA

"Subway Series" *Beauty Edition*

I hate people. I especially hate people who stare.


It’s not particularly crowded on the platform. My “Soul” playlist is playing and I’m feeling quite mellow. Dwele, D’Angelo, Bilal, Jill Scott, etc sing into my ears I don’t even realize I’ve been waiting almost 20 minutes before a train arrives. It finally does and the commuters board. I slide into a seat. I’m not sleepy but the music has wrapped its arms around me and I feel as if I’m floating. There’s just something about soul music that does this to me and it’s a welcomed feeling.

The sounds of drums and bass fill my ears as D’Angelo’s melodious voice sings, “Send it on back to you”. My eyes open slowly as the train comes to a stop and more commuters enter. My mouth opens slightly with surprise as a woman walks on. She is by far one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen in my life. Her skin was like the color of honey and looked as smooth. She wore no make up and her skin was flawless. Atop her head, to the naked eye, sat what appeared a careless hump..but to me it looked like a carefully quaffed crown of her glorious locks. She wasn’t dressed spectacularly. She simply wore a tee shirt and jeans. I couldn’t stop looking at her.

I felt my face flush as I realized three songs had passed and I was still staring. I really had never seen such a natural beauty just riding the train on a weekday afternoon. I was amazed. I looked away but continued to steal glances. She noticed. She didn’t exactly roll her eyes but I could tell she was thinking “What the hell?”

I wanted to express to her what a beauty she was but wondered if she would think I’m trying to hit on her. I wasn’t. I really just thought she was genuinely beautiful.

We approached my stop for transfer and I stood. I walked to her and I said, “I apologize miss, I know your wondering what the hell I’m staring at”, I chuckled, “I just wanted to tell you, you are absolutely beautiful.” There, I said it! I was surprised that her eyes filled with tears and she smiled a sad little smile. “Thank you” she said quietly, “You have no idea how much that means to me”. I was completely taken aback. I smiled uncomfortably as I exited the train wondering what just happened.

A small Hispanic man walked by licking his lips, “Aye mami, lookin’ good!” he yelled. He was wearing large headphones. I rolled my eyes and sneered as I rushed across the platform to catch my connecting train. Lmfao



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

Subway Series "Gangsta Edition"

Rap music makes me violent. Especially 50Cent's, "Get Rich or Die trying" album.

"We don't play dat, we don't play dat, we don't play dat, G-Unit, we don't play around" blasted in my ears as I bopped to the beat. Wearing a white fitted tee, green linen pants, eighties shades, and my Giuseppe slippers, hair blowing in the wind, I was anything BUT "gangsta" but that didn't stop me from walking with a bop, hands in pockets, a slight sneer on my face (you know my face) as I mouthed the words to the song.

As usual people are staring but 50 has me thinking I'm tough, so I'm ready to fight. Not caring that he's about 6'4" and 300lbs, I snarl at the man standing to my right. He turns away.

A short hispanic man descends the stairs carrying a wheel chair. A girl about 7 or 8 follows him, and a middle aged woman limps down the stairs behind them. The train arrives. It's ridiculously crowded. It's rush hour. The woman gets on in her wheelchair and parks herself by the door. At the next stop, a young woman gets on with a baby in a carriage, a toddler and a six or seven year old. A middle aged man with a big bushy mustache pushes past her to take the seat beside me. I mutter some curses and roll my eyes at him as he opens up his paper.

The woman stands at the other door with her carriage and children.

So now that's a woman in a wheelchair with a kid, a woman with a baby in a carriage and 2 other kids, both standing at opposite doors, and it's RUSH HOUR! Fml

What do you think happens next? My iPod dies and on walks a panhandler! He sure is talking a lot. He stops beside the woman with her kids and in a voice that is hardly understandable says that he loves children and that hers are beautiful. She smiles a weak smile. Her face flushes slightly with embarrassment. I imagine she's praying he goes away.

I'm sitting between a fat woman and the man with his paper. He is fidgeting way to much. Going into his pockets, opening his paper wide, then closing it. I've already inched as close to the fat woman as I can. With no tunes he is REALLY annoying me. Only a few more stops to go. I can endure it right?

He sneezes. I cringe.

Thank God it's my stop!

I stand to get of the train but not before I elbow the fuck out of him. I smile a little smile as I exit the train. Oh the little things that make me happy.



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA.

Subway Series *Welcome Home Editon*

It's no secret that I hate people. I especially hate overly eager men. *rolls eyes*


After a week of riding up and down VA, MD, and DC highways in luxury cars, the subway is not a welcomed ride.

I stand on the platform, head bopping, lost in my thoughts and my music.

The train arrives and I take a seat, happy that it's relatively empty. I don't scan the car for strange people. I immediately close my eyes and let the music envelope me.

I realize the train has been immobile for quite some time. I open my eyes to see a tiny old woman push her way onto the train, hitting people with her tiny shopping cart, filled with tattered bags and papers. Her long, gray, hair is a tangled mess and it looks as if she has attempted to put it in a ponytail. Her clothes are dirty and the large collar and bell shaped pants give her the look of a 70's sitcom character. She sits down crossing her legs and arms. She purses her lips, looking around, disdainfully as the conductor announces the last stop on the train will be 96th Street. She's trying to make eye contact with anyone so she can strike up a conversation. I avert my eyes but the young man standing near me is not so lucky. She slaps her thigh engaging in one sided dialogue, complaining about the MTA. The guy, a rocker Mexican with large holes in his ears, tattoos and spikes is staring at her, nodding occasionally and looking around as if to say "Help me".

The train still hasn't moved and I'm tempted to get off and take a cab. Of course as soon as I get ready to stand the doors close. I close my eyes again and lean back as it pulls into the next stop. I feel a tap on my arm. I open my eyes slowly to see a guy in a flannel shirt and unshaven beard, smiling waving a party flyer. I smile politely and shake my head no. He's talking. He's not particularly unattractive but definitely not my type. I'm looking at him not hearing and not caring what he's saying. Why is he still trying to shove his flyer at me?

Now I'm annoyed. I'm tempted to snatch the flyer and toss it on the floor. I growl, "I said no thanks".

My iPod chooses to die at this very moment. "..cause I think your beautiful and different.", he's saying. Is he for real? Having a whole conversation with me?

" This is 96th Street. This is the last stop. You can take a shuttle bus, blah blah blah". I jump up and make a mad dash for the door. Flyer boy is yelling after me about my number. I'm not interested in taking the bus. I'm gonna catch a cab.

At the top of the subway stairs, on a crate, sits a man with one leg, sipping coffee. His prosthetic leg, with sock and sneaker sat on the ground beside him.

Only in NY. Welcome home to me!



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

"Subway Series" *Heatwave Edition*

This has been one of the hottest summers I can remember and today is no exception. It's sweltering!


Dressed in dark, skinny jeans, a black camisole, a fedora, Hollywood shades, arms full of gold bangles and leather wristband, I strut up the stairs to wait for the train. My make up is flawless and my skin shimmers. I'm heading to perform at a show and I feel fab and don't even care that people are staring, yet.

Bilal's sweet melodic voice sings "I wanna be your one and only" in my ears. The train arrives quickly and I walk on scanning the car for a seat. There's a couple vacancies scattered about. Beside a young girl with a chubby baby in a baby sling, a middle aged woman with glasses and her bag on the seat, a young guy in large headphones and a middle aged woman wearing knee length shorts, a visor and a jean jacket. I sit beside the woman with her bag on the seat. She seems annoyed by this and I ask her if there is a problem. "No", she says quickly and pulls out a magazine.

I settle in and allow myself to be enveloped in the sweet sounds coming from my headphones. The train has stopped for what seems like an extended period so I open my eyes and look around, still rocking to the music.

The announcement says something about train traffic. I'm still swaying and singing a little and looking around at the other passengers. I look at the woman in the long shorts. Beneath her visor are a pair of grandma glasses and behind those, a set of crazy eyes. They are darting back and forth as she swings her legs. She has a strange smile on her face, as if she knows a secret that she wants to tell. I almost burst out laughing she looks so insane, but I look over at the man that has taken the seat next to her. He could easily be anywhere from 45 to 75. He is in incredible shape. Dressed in a cowboy hat and a black, fitted, "I <3 NY t-shirt his pecks and muscular arms are on display. I notice many, small, dark spots on his arms and wonder if he is a recovering addict. I look up at a handle bar mustache and eyes behind tinted glasses. He's staring. Oh gosh I hope he doesn't think I'm attracted to him. I quickly look away as I see the corners of his mouth twitch about to form a smile. I turn to my left toward the guy with the headphones. Why did I do this? I realize he too is staring. He's bouncing his head and doing odd motions with his hands and arms. Wtf? Is he throwing up gang signs at me? I frown as I realize he's doing dance moves. His back pack is on the floor between his legs. He's wearing a t-shirt, sneakers and parachute pants. Perhaps he's a dancer or maybe he is just corny. Either way I'm not interested. He is still staring and doing twisted arm movements. I roll my eyes behind my dark shades and concentrate on my music.

He picks up his bag and stands by the door across from me. He's rather tall and not that bad looking but I think of the convo I had with my "Juicy" about men and dancing and I giggle to myself.

I shake my head as I realize he is not getting off the train he just wanted to be in my line of sight. Are you fucking kidding me? He is staring at me and doing his arm movements and now he has incorporated some foot movement. Is he putting on a show for me? Is he trying to do voodoo on me with this fucking rain dance? I avert my gaze and I'm back to the cowboy who's licking his lips.

FML! I want off this train!



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

"Subway Series" *Drunk First lady edition*

Remember my disdain for riding the trains on the weekend? Yeah!

It's been a wonderful day of laughter, drinks, and merriment with the girls. Now I'm tired and ready 2 go home. It's not too late so the train is a good, economical choice, right? WRONG!!


The rest of the girls are gone and I look at the sign which reads, "No service at this station. Take downtown train to Brooklyn Bridge.." Blah blah blah. I'll hop in a cab to 14th street because I'm not riding downtown to come back uptown and then take another train.

I get to 14th Street station. A couple trains pass. (Not my train of course) then a local train announces, "No 5 train service at this station. Take this train to grand central". I suck my teeth as I scurry onto the train and am sandwiched between a girlfriend and boyfriend who are talking nonsense and getting on my nerves.

Did I mention I've been drinking? We arrive at Grand central and my train is across the platform. A swarm of commuters run to the train only to have the doors close in our faces.

I'm beyond annoyed now as the effects of my shots and unlimited cocktails start to kick in. A train finally arrives. I push my way past people and snuggle into a seat preparing to nap until I reach my stop.

Not even two stops into a nap my nostrils are accosted by a stench. It was a mixture of hotdog juice and onions wrapped in garbage, sprinkled with gym socks. I turn to my right alarmed that the smell was coming from a woman!! Her mousy brown hair, hung limp at her shoulders. Her thick glasses sat at the bridge of her nose. Her pale skin was pasty with sweat.

I'm breathing heavy trying to swallow the bile rising in the back of my throat. I know you're thinking, "Just move"..Ummm..I've been drinking and my feet hurt from walking around, playing celebrity and posing with strangers in Tribeca and Soho. I'm not moving. *purses lips*

The entire ride this light bright dude, who resembles R&B singer, The Dream, dressed in a flannel shirt, and a visor (yes, really, a visor) has been staring at me, licking his lips. He rolls up his sleeves to display his tattooed arms. I suck my teeth, mumbling, "Fucking cornball. Tattoos can't help your corny ass". I roll my eyes and averted his gaze. He's still staring.

"What the fuck are u looking at!?" I scream. Did I mention I'm dressed in a church hat, blazer and dress. Looking like the first lady? I hear a bunch of gasps and murmurs. I'm sure they think I've just left church. Little do they know, I'm half past drunk.


Way to represent huh? Oh goody, my stop. "Fuck y'all", I mumble as I sashay off the train.



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

"Subway Series" *Homeless Edition*

Ok, you would think that after all the years of staring I'd be used to it, I'm NOT!
I hate people staring at me. I don't think I look special. Dressed in white jeans, a camisole, my "Hollywood Mocha" shades, Giuseppe slippers and one gold and brass cuff, (as opposed to bangels up to my elbows)I think I look regular.


I'm already annoyed by all the gawking earlier today in "Home Depot" so I'm certainly not in the mood.

I walk onto the train, all eyes on me. I'm disgusted by the blonde guy dressed in greens scrubs who has a full meal spread out on his lap, and is chewing with his mouth open, staring. The two women who are either in their late forties or early fifties are looking me up and down over their glasses, lips pursed. One dressed in a cheap polyester suit with dyed reddish brown hair. The other in mom jeans and a tee shirt and a slick ponytail with a pack of hair that doesn't match hers. The unattractive men, staring. I turned my iPod louder. "So Amazing" by Tye Tribbett blasted as I turned my lip up and nodded my head to the heavy rock beat.

I try to lose myself in the music as I lean back against the door but make the mistake of looking to my left first. A large woman, probably my age, is staring. Not just the normal stare but a look of utter hate. I imagine she's saying to herself, "Skinny bitch". This woman looks as if I took the last piece of chicken on the buffet line. I stare back. I realize, although my head is facing her, she may not know I'm looking at her, so I remove my shades and stare. I smirk as she looks away, "Fat ass" I mumble as I put my shades back on.

Just as I've convinced myself to relax and let the music soothe me, my iPod dies!! *gasp*

I'm breathing heavy and my nostrils are flared anticipating the content of the conversations I'm about overhear. To my surprise it's quiet aside from one voice. A deep, raspy voice, repeating the same words. It's getting closer. I look up to see him standing in front of me. His kinky hair was littered with lint. The shirt he wore, tattered and dirty as he held his dirty, chapped hand inches from my face. I blinked twice waiting for him to move on, but he stood there staring at me, talking, with his hand in my face.

I'm not sure what he was saying to me, I felt the smoke coming from ears and the white spots danced before my eyes. My face was hot with anger. I was either about to black out and murder this man on the train or pass out. .wait..what is he saying? After asking me for change was he really asking me out on a DATE?! Where are we going? Panhandling? FOH!



*ding dong*

Thank You for riding the fucking MTA

"Subway Series" Complexion Connection Edition

I've been stuck indoors for the past four days, with back pain, so I'm anxious to be out and about.


Dressed in white skinny jeans, a tank top and fedora, I tip toe gingerly in my four inch heels, feeling the tugs and tweaks in my back. I think to myself, "These heels were a bad idea"

I stand waiting for the train, all eyes on me. I roll my eyes and pull out my iPod.

The train arrives and I'm bopping my head, to the remix of "Sugar we're going down" by Fall Out Boy, as I board.

My eyes quickly scan the car for a seat. I spot one near a young man with a stroller and a toddler. I look down at my white pants and think, "No way!" I spot a seat beside a middle aged hispanic man, with socks up to his knees and sandals, who is staring at my "pants" and a perfectly tanned, female, dressed in dark, stripped slacks and a rumpled white blouse, her blonde hair pulled in a careless bun. I sat by the girl.

I relax, leaning my head back against the wall and crossing my legs. I close my eyes. *tap tap* on my arm. What the..? My eyes shoot open, I sit upright, and my head whips to my right with a snarl. The blonde girl is talking to me. I rip out my ear plugs and growl, "What!?" "What color is that on your toes?", she smiles. Her haggard, tired face is transformed and she is radiant. I couldn't help but soften and respond, explaining that it could only be one of three colors, because I only wear pale pinks, looking down at my manicured toes in my opened toe shoes and then at her's, which were large. Stuffed into flip flops her feet were dry and chapped, nails without polish. I grimaced and looked back up at her.

"..Because, it looks great against your skin color", she was saying. I smile. "Aww, thanks."

She asks why I only use the pale pink colors and I explain that I don't like the way the darker colors look on me. She begins to tell me of her black friend who also doesn't wear dark colors. "You guys are crazy. Especially you. Your complexion is good it goes perfect with everything. It's nice because it's not too dark" *errrkkkk* WHAT?! Time out. Did she really just say that? I roll my eyes and smile coldly as I put my headphones back in, mumbling to myself, "This bitch with her orange spray tan talkin' to me. That's why I don't fuckin' talk to strangers. Stupid ass."



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA.

"Subway Series" New Crush Edition?

Riding the trains daily you begin to notice familiar faces. For me the familiar faces are the older West Indian woman with the bible, the tall, dark, handsome bald guy who I crush on and hope to see every day, the guy who always gives me the eye and nauseates me, the interracial couple, the brothers and the mother, etc.

My day has been rough. All I can think about is getting home to my comfy couch and a glass of red wine. Thank heavens for a smooth train ride. No crazies. There are a few lingering stares from people but nothing out of the ordinary. My iPod hasn’t died and I’m enjoying very soothing sounds in my ears. The train arrives at my stop and I slowly walk off the train. Dressed in a dark gray pencil skirt, “Hollywood shades”, a fitted tee and my favorite bedazzled Giuseppe slippers I walk to the market. I don’t know why, but, I’m compelled to turn around and look behind me. I do and look into the eyes of a familiar face. I look away shyly but not before a slight smile is exchanged. *giggle* I turn back around and walk into the fruit market thinking to myself, “Wow, he really is very handsome”.

I know what you’re thinking but your wrong. It wasn’t my train crush! Ha! It’s one of the brothers! The mother, who barely looks a day over 40, gives the impression of being a sister from church. Dressed in shin length skirts and dresses every day (never pants) and I can almost see the lace head covering but I’m sure she doesn’t wear that to work, lol. Her hair is straight and hangs past her shoulders. She always has her tote and her large purse. The brothers could almost be twins they look so much alike, however one is just a little cuter than the other. They are always dressed in slacks and collared shirts. Never dressed in suits and ties or sneakers and jeans, they are light to caramel in color with dark cesars. The one who I assume is the younger of the two is ALWAYS with the mom. The other I only see sometimes. (He’s the cuter of the two and the one I see now) Maybe I’m paranoid but many times I’ve passed them and I feel they are discussing me when I walk down to my spot on the platform and look back at them looking at me. (Mother included)

As I walk around in the market I look up to see him standing outside. He’s talking on his cell and he’s looking at me. I feel my face flush as he smiles a spectacular smile. Wow..he REALLY IS quite handsome. I make my purchases and walk out. He’s still there talking on his cell. He looks as if he wants to say something but he doesn’t put down his phone, so I walk into the next market for the rest of my groceries. I walk through the market thinking, of what I might say if he is still waiting. The pessimistic thoughts enter and I’m saying to myself, “He’s short. He’s light. He probably lives at home with his mom. He isn’t interested. He would have gotten off of the phone. He was probably waiting for his girlfriend.“ I suppress all these thoughts and say to myself “You are limiting your options. He could be a wonderful person. If you don’t date him, he may become one of your best friends. Don’t be afraid” I push my cart to the side and go outside to say something. I look to my left and then to my right. He’s gone.



*Ding Dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

"Subway Series" *I hate Kids Edition*

How long has it been since I've told you that I hate kids and thirsty men?

Dressed in dark denim, short shorts, a tank top, white jacket, fedora, shades and tons of gold and wooden bracelets, I teeter on my 5 inch heels to the train. Rushing, I've forgotten my ipod. Great!

There aren't usually people hanging out on my block but today there were and it seems they are all men who've never seen legs before. I try not to be rude but I'm slightly annoyed.

I ignore the cat calls and walk up the stairs to wait for a train as apparently I've just missed one.

I sit on the bench and a short hispanic man and his two chubby children approach me. The father and daughter, sit beside me and the son stands in front of us.

Both kids are wearing glasses, back packs and flip flops and their feet are filthy. The boy sneezes a disgusting sounding wet sneeze and sprays everything within a foot of him. He doesn't cover his mouth. I roll my eyes is disgust and disbelief that his father didn't reprimand him.

The children begin to play hand games with each other and dangerously close to the angry black woman. (Me) Nostrils flared, I let out a slow breath. I'm waiting for the father to say something to his rowdy kids as they laugh and rough house with each other. He says nothing and my patience wears thin as the girl hits me with her backpack. I'm about to spazz but she quickly apologizes. I grunt and roll my eyes.

Just as I'm about to open my mouth and use very colorful language we hear the train approaching and they jump up and walk down the platform.

I'm lost on the train with no book to read and no tunes but luckily my blackberry is always buzzing and keeping me occupied.

I'm deep in bbm convos as the train pulls into a station and stops. I hear a few gasps and giggles so I look up to see what the fuss is about. A teen boy (I'm assuming by his frame) dressed in a, Charlie Chaplain like hat, jeans, a collared shirt, vest, and...a mask. A Jabbawokee mask. He's carrying a large duffle bag which I will soon find out is holding his boom box.

He sets down his bag and stands at the door. Not moving. Not speaking. Just standing. A few more giggles. I am not amused. I go back to my bbm convos. He turns on his music and begins his act. He does a little hip hop dance. Then he begins to gyrate suggestively on a womans lap. She laughs. My eyebrow raises as he moves on to another female and she giggles. He walks over to me and sits beside me. Just as I'm about to say "Look here, chile, I will beat you like you ate my last chicken wang!", the door that leads to the next car opens. On walks a tall heavyset man who resembles the rapper "Bone Crusher" with a sign on his neck. His hair is wild, curly, and dirty. Thick round glasses rested on a dirty face. He had on a tee shirt and jeans but he had a blanket draped over his shoulders with a rope wrapped around it. In a loud gravely voice he yells, "Spare some change, anybody?!" I almost bust out laughing at the sound of his voice. Is he serious! He sounds like a cartoon villain. Suddenly Jabbawockee kid doesn't seem so bad. Imagine this large,dirty man giving lap dances on the train.



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

"Subway Series" *It's a Boy Edition*

When did it become okay for women not to take pride in their appearance. When did the lines become blurred between male or female?




The temperature is on hell. Dressed in a navy blue, silk, halter dress, gold and wooden bangles up to my elbows on each arm, large chandelier earrings, a fedora and my "Hollywood Mocha" shades, 4inch gold and wooden sandals, I walk slowly to the train.

Standing on the platform, apparently I'm the center of attention. Everyone is staring. The young girl in her low cut sun dress with tattoos on her collarbone, the two older hispanic women stopped talking to look me up and down, the teen boy who looked like he was getting off of his summer youth job for the day, all staring.

As I took into account the way they were all attired I didn't feel too bad. I realized most people expect black women to be a certain size and look a certain way and as my friend says, I'm "Extra" lol.

As Linkin Park played in my ears I watched a muscular girl in a tank top, skinny jeans and flip flops switch my way. Holy crap! It's a BOY!

The train arrives and I step on to more staring. Two African woman stopped their loud conversation to stare at me. I return their gazes and look them up and down as well. They both have on flip flops and look as if they have been kicking rocks their entire lives. Gag reflex kicks in. How gross. I notice that the one on the right's feet are my color but her face and neck are yellowish, lol. They both have beautiful faces and are dressed head to toe in kente cloth. They have bags at their feet and on the seat between them.

I'm bored with them so my eyes scan the train and rest on a hispanic man with wet and wavy hair pulled back in a ponytail. He leering at me. I roll my eyes.

The train stops and I exit to transfer. I'm looking down at myself wondering why everyone is staring as a pair of hard looking feet in flip flops, with chipped polish, pass me. My eyes slowly scan up the body. Short shorts, knobby knees, tee shirt, vest, wow that hair. What a mess! OMG! It's a boy!

The next train arrives and I step on and take a seat across from a large woman in a summer dress and flip flops. My nostrils flare and I roll my eyes as she looks me up and down and stares. My eyes rest on her Flinstone feet and yellowed toenails then on my own pink toenails. My pedicure is two weeks old and my feet still look great. I wonder how long it's been since she's had a pedicure.

I'm shaking my head wondering why women don't care about how they look when I see the cutest girl. She has on skinny jeans/or leggings, a graphic tee, a long sweater and her hair is gelled up in a Rihanna type style. She appears young so I'm impressed by her make up. It's perfect. She has on dancer shoes (not stripper but the soft leather, jazz dancer, shoes) OMG! My eyes open wide as I realize, It's a boy!

Twilight Zone!!



*Ding Dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

"Subway Series" *Summer Edition*

I hate people touching me. I especially hate when strangers touch me. I rarely shake hands and if I do I sanitize immediately after. I wear sweaters and jackets in 90 degree humid weather to avoid peoples skin touching me when in close proximity. Hey people have germs! Lol

It's the best weather of the summer yet. The sun is shining brightly and there is a slight breeze. It's not humid and it's under 80 degrees. I'm dressed in dark skinny jeans, a black camisole, 5 inch heels and my "Hollywood Mocha" shades.

I step onto the train rap music blasting. (Did I tell you rap music makes me violent?)

A young girl no older than 25 sits beside me. I inch away realizing I've left my jacket at home and my arms are bare. Closing my eyes I settle in for the ride. She coughs. My eyes open slowly. She coughs again. I let out a slow and steady breath. She coughs AGAIN!

My head snaps to my right as I glare at her. I realize it's not a sick cough but a dry cough. I search my bag for a candy and shove it at her. "Thank you" she says. I grunt and roll my eyes before attempting to relax again.

She gets off the train in another couple stops and I'm happy it's not crowded and none of these large humans will try to squeeze in beside me.

We arrive at 125th street station and it must be drug addict Wednesday. At least four of them get on and two sit on either side of me. I almost scream. I'm breathing heavily trying not to inhale the stench coming from the one to my left. I look over and he's holding a book out reading it. I look at his dirty fingers and notice his thumb nail is half gone and what's left is a blackish green color. I'm gaging.

The one on my right is fidgeting, going in his bag, playing with his headphones, going in his pockets. All the while his grimy hawaiian button down is brushing against my arm. I've had it with him! I swing my purse to push him off of me and growl, "What the fuck man!". Thank God it's my stop. I roll my eyes and push past the people trying to rush onto the train before the passengers get off. I bump a girl so hard she almost falls and turn to look at her DARING her to say something. She scurries onto the train.

I walk quickly up the stairs to wait for the next train. It arrives and I sit down. An older woman with a large purse and shopping bags sits beside me. I want to curse her but I don't because she is old enough to be my grandma. She nicely rests her purse on my leg. I suck my teeth and move my leg.

Oh no! My IPOD dies! Whyyyyy!!

She's chomping down on some chips or peanuts or something and her purse has made it's way back into my lap. I keep telling my self "She's old, leave her alone" but when the person beside her gets off she doesn't move over, I'm left to assume she's being spiteful. I push her bag off of my leg and suck my teeth, thinking "I dare you, grandma!" She moves her bag and continues to eat. I pull out my blackberry(R) and begin to type all the while thinking "I hate this shit"



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA.

"Subway Series" *drummer boy edition*

I don't mind some of the subway entertainers. They are actually quite entertaining but some of them are pushy,disruptive and obnoxious.


It's hot as hell. I'm wearing a knee length, white, cotton sundress,a shrug of a denim jacket and flip flops. Of course I'm wearing my "Hollywood Mocha" shades.

Sweat pours down my face as I walk briskly to the train sipping on a slushy from Dunkin Donuts.

The train arrives and I pull out my book. The train is EMPTY! I'm ecstatic. I sit in a nice little corner reading my book, sipping my slushy. Train stops a couple people get on. A little hispanic man in a baseball cap, shorts, a muscle shirt and sandals carrying a backpack smiles at me and sits beside me. I look at all the empty seats and scream "Are u fucking kidding me?!" I swing my bag to smack him and move to the other side the empty train. An older black man with a white goatee and a bald head dressed in khakis and a polo shirt chuckled. I scowl at him.

Reading my book I almost didn't notice the cutie in a charcoal suit, white shirt, no tie, open top buttons. I said ALMOST. Lol

Approaching my stop I close my book and exit the train. Waiting on the platform for my connecting train, I hear the African drum. I pull out my IPOD immediately and crank it up but not before I hear the drummer, a tall, heavyset, balding black man in baggy mom jeans and a dirty gray tee shirt say some about me being perfect. I ignore him and walk further down the platform. He follows, beating his drum and singing loudly. My back is to him and I can't really decipher what he's saying but judging from the smiles at me and giggles he is serenading me. I can feel the vibration of the drum and his voice. Sucking my teeth I fold my arms. He is really trying to get my attention. I am not amused and certainly not in the mood.

The train arrives and I walk on and sit preparing for another quick nap. As soon as I close my eyes, that damn drum starts up again and the large man start speaking loudly and then singing. I wish I had something to throw at him. "Shut the fuck up!!" I want to scream. There is a woman with two small children. She looks as annoyed as I. He comes and stands directly in front of me singing. Dude! Seriously!? "Get outta my got damned face!"

Ugghh, I hate him and everything he stands for! Thank God the doors open and a crowd of people rush onto the train. He gets off.

Thank you! Now..I lean back and prepare to nap. Oh damn, this is my stop! Fuck u drummer boy!



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

"Subwy Series" *Spring Edition*

It's the weekend. I hate taking the train but I especially hate taking the train on the weekend. There is always track work being done, rerouting, anything that equals delays!


It's a beautiful spring day. The sun is shining brightly. Dressed in light blue, denim jeans, a white, collared shirt, my heels are click clacking against the pavement. My hair which had been straight and neatly tucked behind my ears, now blew in a wavy tangled mess as I strutted. *click clack click clack* I'm walking to the train, headed 2 the city 2 have drinks with the girls.Wiping my forehead realizing it (the day) wasn't as beautiful as I had thought. It was, in fact, quite humid and uncomfortable.Rolling my eyes trying to pull my hair back into some sort of sensible style, I climbed the subway stairs.

The train arrived shortly after that and I walked on, IPOD blasting.

The train wasn't too crowded but I stood anyway. I didn't want 2 squeeze next to the fat man that was sizing me up or the woman with the fat toddler who was eating Doritos. I leaned back against the door and scanned the train. My eyes rested on a pair of huge leather boots. They were so fly! Dark reddish brown, pointed but not too pointy, laces and a strap. Definitely something you'd find on 8th Street in one of those shoe boutiques. A large Louie spy bag sat on the floor between the pointed boots. Light blue jeans tucked into the boots, white button up, perfectly manicured nails. Large, gold framed "Hollywood" shades. And a Dior scarf tied around the head? Hold on just one minute! This was me in my early twenties! I always rocked a scarf with or without a fedora and huge shades. Shoot, depending on how I feel, I STILL do. It's part of the reason why my friend Pete gave me the nickname Alicia C. (That was during the time Alicia Keys became popular.) But this was a MAN. And he was staring @ me. I looked down and realized we were dressed alike except I had on strappy sandals and no head scarf.

Then an announcement came over the loud speaker. "Last Stop!!" I mumbled a few curse words as I realized we were being told to take a shuttle bus. I was not pleased.

I scrambled with all the rest of the commuters to the awaiting shuttle buses.

Beads of sweat on my forehead. Nostrils flaring. I'm pissed! I stepped onto the bus. Pushed past the idiots standing by the door to the empty space toward the back.

I pass a young couple. The guy looks me up and down. The girl looks at me, at her man, back at me and rolls her eyes. "Eff you cunt" I say with my eyes. For this I stand in front of them, giving him a great view of my ass in my skin tight jeans.

The doors close and the bus pulls off. Jill Scott sings softly into my ears. I smile. Eyes resting on a toned arm of which the skin is so black and so smooth. Thick locks hung down to the elbow. I looked up into the darkest eyes with the darkest, thickest lashes I had ever seen. A perfectly lined beard around lips I wanted to bite. He was talking into a cell phone. His accent so thick and sexy. I immediately searched his fingers. I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding. No rings! *giggle* I listened intently to what he was saying. "Yah baybey, mi ah come home in a lickle bit. Di train ah stop han mi haffi tek bus" Oh damn. Oh well, it doesn't hurt to look, right?

Finally, we arrive at the train station.

Cute dread man is forgotten as I hear the young girl yelling at her boyfriend for looking at my ass. I giggle and put a lil extra swing in my hips.



*Ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA.

4/19/10 "SUBWAY SERIES" *Train crush edition*

I'm feeling a little weak and drained. Awakened in the wee hours of the morning by an intense migraine so I'm moving in extra slow motion.


Dressed in a cream vneck sweater, dark slacks, cheetah print stilettos and a red trench coat, I walk slowly to the train. I'm not quite late so I don't make a mad dash when I hear a train approaching on the platform above me.

The sun is shining brightly. Its quite a beautiful day. I've remembered to apply sun block so I don't run to the shade.

I smile, visibly, when I see my train crush. I didn't mean to smile, he just looked so handsome in his crisp white shirt and his black trench with his smooth chocolate skin and bald head. *smile* I looked away as he strolled to where I stood on the platform. If only he would say something. I glanced at him again and then away as he walked and sat on the bench behind me. "Was that a smile?" I ask myself...did he give me the, "I see you looking" smile? Lol.

The train approaches. Its not the eastside train so I'll take it two stops and transfer. I have a perfect view of him and I feel myself smiling again. He really does have perfect features.

A seat opens and he sits. I wonder why when we get off at the next stop but he remains on the train as I exit.

I stand on the platform as two more westside trains pass. As the third westside train approaches I suck my teeth and board thinking I could've stayed on the first damn train with "TC" (train crush) and transferred further downtown. I slide into a seat next to a cute guy. He dressed decent. Slacks, shoes, shirt, blazer..but something about him looks unpolished.

He has on huge dj headphones. "Corny" I think to myself as he starts bopping extra hard to a rap song. He's making hand gestures and saying the words out loud. "Nigga....fuck...what" Nostrils flare. I turn my lip in disgust. I swing my purse extra hard to "accidentally" smack him with it. I turn and look at him in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me" I mutter. This fool smiles and gives me the "eye"..*gasp* Are u fucking joking? Do u honestly think I'm interested in you. *vomit*

Oh good my stop. I bustle off the train shaking my head because I missed an opportunity to stare at "TC" only to ride the train with "Homeboy from the hood..with a job"

*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

4/17/10 "Subway Series Weekend edition"

It's Sunday afternoon. I feel quite accomplished. I've just walked three miles for MS which is more than I will walk for the rest of the year. Lol.


Dressed in hoodies, sneakers, hollywood shades and capri running tights my friend and I walk onto the train. I'm struggling with a bag full of give aways and I'm wearing a black skully hat. Her hair is in a curly afro puff.
We are engaged in conversations about life, music and relationships.

We laugh as we talk about "racial profiling" on the train. Lol. Anyone who rides the train KNOWs what this is. On a semi crowded train you look for a pigment deficient to stand in front of because you know they are getting off at a particular stop. I explain that that doesn't always work for me because many times they are getting off at MY stop. I HAVE kind of mastered the art of recognizing the "Soprano" type that live near me. They have a more "European" look, rather than "American".

Throughout our conversation we notice and laugh about different things. The chubby guy wearing skinny jeans and sneakers with the large tongues hanging. The older black woman wearing glasses who appears to be reading a magazine but repeatedly looks up at us smiling. The white guy in jeans so tight he has a camel toe.

I point out two men who I know will be getting off at my stop. One in a black leather motorcycle jacket and dark hair and an older man with white hair and a dark gray smoking jacket.

My attention rests on the young hispanic woman who has been lip singing with her eyes closed the entire ride. I looked up and she's eating Mc Donald's fries. "Where did she get those from?", I ask my friend. We laugh and continue talking. I look up again and she has a fountain drink. "What the hell? Does she have a Mc Donald's in her purse?" Lol

We have now arrived at my friends stop, I laugh as I point out the two "Soprano" guys are still on the train.
I lean back and close my eyes..I'm exhausted. 15 minute cat nap will do me just fine.
The train arrives at my stop. I get up and sure enough, the two gentlemen get up to get off as well.
I laugh to myself. I knew it.
 
*ding dong*
Thank you for riding the MTA

4/14/10 "subway series"

By now you KNOW I hate humans. All humans. Blax, pigment deficient, mira etes, teens, crying babies. The list goes on. So it doesn't take much to piss me off. But one thing I cannot take is people smacking and cracking their gum.


It's beautiful out. I had a rough night and woke with a migraine but the sun is shining. The temperature is perfect and I feel fabulous. Dressed in black leather pumps, fitted black slacks, fitted white tea wit a lilac, v neck sweater, and a blazer. My hair is blowing in the wind as I walk to the train station.

Walking on the platform face in blackberry I'm surprised to look up and see my train crush. I stand with my back facing him smiling to myself, knowing he's sizing me up. Seems like it takes forever but the train finally comes. It's crowded as all hell. GREAT! I step onto the train. Annoyed because everyone seems to be standing at the door and there is space in the train. I suck my teeth and push through to stand in the empty part of the train. I'm standing next to a fat belly, Shaba Ranks who is smacking his gum and staring at me with his red beady eyes. I roll my eyes and turn away from him.

At the next stop on walks an old guy wearing a fedora , that I want to steal off his head, a wool sweater, and glasses hanging down at the tip of his nose. He's peering over his glasses staring at me. Why is he looking me up and down? And chewing that got damned gum like a cow!! His mouth is hanging open and he's smacking and chewing leering at me. I roll my eyes in disgust and avert my eyes. Don't want him mistaking my angry gaze with interest.

Then, the worst thing happens...my ipod dies!!! OH NO! Now I can hear he AND Shabba smacking and chewing. Holy crap I'm gonna spazz. I'm gonna have an episode on the train. I'm gonna start screaming and cursing and throwing things. Breath, breath, breath. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7..I'm breathing and counting. Counting and breathing. Praying "Jesus, lawd have mercy. Please lawd help me to calm down." Breath breath. You can do it.

My eyes scan the train for my crush. Where the hell did he go?

I think I'm starting to sweat. Steam is coming out of my ears. "What the fuck!?" I blurt out. I roll my head back slowly and let out a deep breath. I'm not embarrassed. I'm a little off and the smacking is creating a nervous tick.

"Ok, just one more stop to go, I can do this." I'm thinking when I feel a tap on my arm. "Hexcuse me" a voice says, my head whips around and I glare at Shabba. "What!?" I snarl at him. "I just want to pass." The train is now ridiculously crowded and people are piled up against each other. "You wait!" I growl. Then look back at Fedora hat man who is still smacking and leering. I feel more out bursts coming. I'm not going to be able to contain myself.

Oh thank God! It's my stop.

I shuffle off the train with the throng of commuters. A young woman with 15 packs of greasy weave is in front of me. She swings her greasy horse hair and it hits me in the face. LAST STRAW!! I reach out to grab her by it and pull her down to the floor. At that very moment someone cut in front of me. I growl out at least 15 expletives as I charge up the stairs...Deep breath. Aahhhhhh fresh air. I'm ok now.





*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

4/8/10 "Subway Series" Grumpy Old men edition.

It's only 6am and it's already over 70 degrees. I've been up since 4:30 and I'm in no mood for the bullshit. I have to open the office so being late is not an option. I'm locking the door to the apartment listening to the birds singing their praises to the sky. I smile and run down the five flights, in my five inch sandals, to the lobby.


I walk briskly to the train station. Hair blowing in the wind. Linen pants, bright green tank, and yellow short sleeved jacket. My Hollywood Mocha, shades atop my head holding back my hair.

I'm greeted by two old white guys in baseball caps, glasses, and BLUE polo shirts. If they had on shorts they'd have tube socks to their knees, I'm sure. Lol.

They are arguing. "Your an idiot" shouts one. "Oh shut your mouth" shouts the other. I'm quite amused. There is a puddle of coffee at the turnstile, and a little blue paper cup, which I gather is the catalyst of the argument.

I follow them up the stairs, smiling to myself and on says something about "Roman Polanski" and the other shouts, "Not his wife u idiot". These old guys are hysterical and remind me of my grandpop, a very cantankerous old man who I should probably go visit soon.

I'm lost in my own memories as I hear old guy number one say to old guy number two, "You know, it was great having you here. I've missed you". They embrace briefly and continue arguing. I chuckle.

The train is approaching. I turn on my ipod as I walk on. Faith Evans sings, "I see the lighting flashing, heard the thunder roll. I feel the cold winds blowing, trying to conquer my soul"

I take a seat by a small black man in a business suit across from a cute Hispanic guy in a tight white shirt, a young girl who looks like she hasn't washed her face but has her bedazzled blackberry in hand. An Indian guy in a baseball cap, a flight jacket and shifty eyes is staring at me. I immediately think of "24" and think, "I will fuck u up if u try to blow up this train and make me late for work." Every few seconds his scary eyes look at me and every time he looks I roll my eyes and my nostrils flare. I realize he's probably a West Indian from Guyana or Trinidad but I stare at him until my eyes get heavy and I fall asleep.

Damn the media for turning me into a paranoid freak. Lol

*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

4/6/10 "Subway series"

It's a beautiful day and I feel fabulous. I'm wearing dark gray, loose fitting slacks, a snug white tee, a three quarter sleeve pea green jacket and a yellow scarf. I've taken out the spring/summer stilettos so I have an extra switch in my hips. I have on my regular seeing glasses and not my hollywood shades and I'm on time today. I'm really feeling fab!


A woman goes through the turnstile. I swipe my card. Green light says go and I push the turnstile. I almost smash my face into it because it's locked.

What in the hell?! I swipe my card again. "Just used" Damn it. See, I have an "Unlimited" Metrocard and although I can ride as many trains and buses I choose, all day, every day, I cannot use it back to back on the same bus or train. I have to wait 20 minutes. A train is coming. This seems to happen to two more people. The three of us are standing there looking at each other waiting for someone to come thru the emergency doors. Incidentally, I live on the side of the parkway where there is no token booth. It IS a busy subway stop so someone will come through eventually.

Minutes pass and no one comes through the doors.

Another train is approaching. Commuters are running down the steps and through the turnstiles. The other woman who is waiting asks a woman to open the door. "I can't just open the door! You have to pay!", she screams. *gasp* Are u serious lady? Do we look like homeless people trying to get a free ride? I'm starting to get annoyed as yet another train approaches. We are having no luck.

I look up and my train crush is walking towards the turnstile. He's walking briskly trying to catch the train. I was cool and calm until I saw him. I'm burning with embarrassment and anger because I won't be able to ride the train with him. Our eyes lock briefly then he dashes through to catch OUR train.

More people come through but NO ONE comes through the doors. Bumbaclot, mudah skunt, f*ck man!..I spit out every expletive in my vocabulary as "Homeboy from the hood" looks me up and down suggestively and says, "Damn ma, thas a good look". I wish I had a bat! I would have beat him to death.

Three trains have passed. I attempt to swipe my card again, "Just used" More expletives escape from my glossed lips. I'm ready to snap I grab my fone to alert my coworkers that NOW I'm running late.

As I'm cursing explaining what has happened a teen comes through the emergency doors. Finally!! I scurry up the stairs coming face to face with a cop. The train doors close. Today is not my day!

I pull out my ipod as I realize the cop is not going to harrass me. "Only just a friend. The love story begins. Now here's a happy ending to believe in.." John Legend sings..I smile.. The train is coming. Today may not be such a bad day after all.



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA.

4/2/10 "Subway Series" Evening Edition

Lauren Hills smooth voice sang, "My world it moves so fast today, the past it seems so far away..." as I stood above these fat toddlers on the train. A girl with wild hair and filthy fat feet in flip flops (say that 3 times fast lol) kicking me every few minutes. The boy being a whiny brat with ring around the mouth; probably from an icee or candy . They are fighting each other hence the kicking.

I'm looking at what I assume is their fat ass mother then back at them. My expression says "Tell them something before I kick them back. I will fight your kids, I do not care". She tries to quiet them to no avail. They fight harder. Just as I'm about to lose it the "mother" gets up and sits between them. "Dumb ass, you should have done that a long time ago" I think to myself rolling my eyes.

They get off the train at the next stop. I quickly scan the people nearest me, checking for pregnant women or elderly people. I see none so I plop down in the seat relieved. My feet hurt. I lean back, slowly closing my eyes, sighing with relief as notice a middle aged woman giving me the side eye. Upon closer examination I realize she's an woman. Oh well, no one told you to dress hip and dye ur hair. I look to my left and right at the men who have me sandwiched in. They are not budging. They are actually avoiding her eyes so I close mine for my nap.

Next stop, guy on my left gets off and she sits. Is she trying to elbow me to make more room for herself. I'm trying to nap! I WILL fight you grandma! I elbow her back and push my purse into her arm.

Gosh her breath smells like shit! I put my head in my hand wondering, does this only happen to me? What the hell?

I hate humans.

*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA