"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