*Bossy Becky Edition"

It's cold. 
I'm wearing a colour block dress that is little more than a wisp of fabric with bright orange leggings and a hooded bubble coat that is almost to my ankles. The dress is more a spring or fall frock but I have pressed snooze one two many times and know if I take the time to iron something, I won't have time to eat.
My black booties and boots (all 5 pair) need to be repaired and none of my other boots match. I stuff the ankles of my leggings into my Giuseppe's, knowing it looks ridiculous but not caring much, as I rush to catch the train. 
The station is strangely empty. 
I swipe my Metrocard as I realize the display reads, "No cards." I rush to the other turnstile which reads the same. I grumble under my breath as I read train tracker which says my train will arrive in five minutes. I envision the eight lanes of traffic I have to scurry across because I'm on the side of the parkway with no token booth. 
I'm cursing in my head and walking to the exit as a Messican swipes his card and looks at me for help.
I roll my eyes saying, "It doesn't work." 
I'm speaking to him as well as the pigment sufficient woman who has entered the station. "What do you mean?" She asks in a tone I do not like. "How is this possible?" She continues, in that tone. I'm tempted to say, "Bitch I don't work here!" 
A group of teens enter the station and I wait to see if any of them have skills like McGyver. 
After they all try their cards (even though Bossy Becky has told them it doesn't work) the tall black boy goes to the side where the turnstiles are for exiting only. 
He pushes in the opposite direction and with one strong shove it gives way and he is on the other side. Common sense would tell him to buzz the emergency door, for the rest of us, but he leaves us all on the other side and climbs the stairs to the uptown platform.
One by one we all push our way through, Bossy Becky shouting instructions, "Push. Very hard. With all your might! that's it! you've got it!"
More people enter the station and she shouts directions to them as well. 
"She must be a teacher" I thought as I climbed the stairs with one minute to spare before the train arrived.

*ding dong*
Thank You for riding the MTA

~SEXY BUM EDITION~

I had barely moved an inch as the gay guy squeezed into the half a seat between myself and a heavyset girl.
I had in fact, strategically placed my purse on my lap to minimize his space and make him uncomfortable for shimmying into the small space.
I squeezed my eyes shut to grab a few quick Zzzs, which came quickly.
I was jolted out of my sleep abruptly by a woman whose bags were practically resting on my lap as she shoved past me to rush to a seat.
A part of my wanted to snatch her bags and throw them off the train and stomp her face in. Shaking my head at my frequent violent thoughts, I leaned back against the wall. Before me stood the cutest, firmest bottom, I had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.
The legs beneath the bottom were extremely long and perfectly toned. I looked over to the gay guy and he was staring too.
The feet wore running shoes. The toned legs covered by fitted Levi's. There was a bookbag on his back. He was at LEAST 6' 4". I couldn't stop staring at his perfect legs and ass.
The train arrived at my transfer stop and I left the train never seeing the face attached to those glorious legs and bum.
I entered the local train and stood facing the door.
The reflection in the glass told me someone was standing awfully close behind me.
I turned around ready to verbally assault whomever thought it was ok to stand so close to me on an empty train.
He was grinning.
It was the MTA worker who had asked me out on a date multiple times.
He asked why he hadn't seen me.
I asked him why the hell he was standing so close but smiled, relieved I wasn't going to have to fight some pervert on the train.
He said, "I saw the legs and hair. I knew it was you."
He went into his usual spiel, "When are you gonna let me take you out?"
"Where do you wanna go?"
"You wanna see a play?"
"You wanna go to Alvin Ailey?"
I laughed at his enthusiasm as he continued listing places.
He then says, "No, you wanna go dancing. I can tell you're a dancer with those legs."
In my mind I considered the idea of going on a date with him. I mean, I haven't dated in ages. It might be fun.
I then imagined how he might dress outside of his uniform and pictured Jerome from "Martin". I quickly dismissed the thought.
I smiled again saying no in response to the question, if I had his number.
He asked if I wanted it.
I smiled and waved bye as I slipped off the train at the next stop. Allowing the door to close on his next question....
"Next ti..."

*Ding Dong*
Thank You for riding the MTA