Subway Series ~The Dread Band Edition~

I hate the cold.


If it could be spring in NY all year 'round, I'd love life.

I know what you're thinking...but what about fall fashion...yea yea yea.

It's a lovely 40 something degrees in October. *rolls eyes*

Dressed in dark skinny jeans, natural colored leather knee boots, a cream turtleneck wool sweater, and white vest, ..I throw on shades and look at my hats. I see the perfect floppy hat and grab it.

All that's visible are my full, glossed lips.

Beyonce sings in my ears, "Maybe we reached a mountain peak and there's nowhere left to climb."

I don't have 2 worry about making eye contact because if I tilt my head just that much, everyone is a headless body.

Waiting on the platform I watch the headless bodies walk to and fro. A headless woman's body comes and stands right beside me. I roll my eyes knowing she's a pigment deficient because they are the only ones who have no sense of personal space. I tilt my head back and lift the flap of my hat. I roll my eyes and move a few steps as the train arrives.

I walk onto the train feeling the stares but not caring one bit because with the slightest tilt they all disappear anyway.

I haven't been seated more than 10 minutes before the sleeping Hispanic man to my right is sliding down, head almost resting on my shoulder. I move slightly. He jumps awake and then falls back asleep. I chuckle and go back to texting. Seconds later he's falling again. This time it isn't so amusing. I elbow him in the ribs and he jumps awake. He looks around and sure enough, falls right back to sleep. He's adjusted himself as not to fall onto me again but onto the Hispanic woman to his right, who I assume is his wife or daughter because as he slides down onto her shoulder she continues to read. I realize about five stops later when he jumps and runs off of the train and she continues to read that they were not together at all.

An entire series of events, including a woman with her cranky baby, a man who stands in front of me and is trying terribly to see underneath the hat and practically sits in my lap before I "accidentally* kick him, act as reminders of why I hate the train so much.

Arriving at my stop I push the people out of my way trying to board the train before I exit. As I'm walking I hear steel drums and a sweet melodic beat playing above my music. I remove my headphones and smile as three older, bearded, dreads play their drums and horns. My body sways slightly to the beat as they give me that look that old men give young hot chicks.

I pull a five out of my purse and toss it in their already full collection basket and scurry off, totally forgetting about the awful train ride, smiling, and happy.

See, Subway performers bring light to even the darkest clouds. lol



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA.