SUBWAY SERIES ~SICK BABY EDITION~

I rarely wear pants, especially to work. So my legs r exposed. Well, sorta. I'm wearing silk, sheer stockings.
I don't have on sensible, work shoes. Instead I'm wearing funky, peep-toe booties. The train is ridiculously crowded with rush hour commuters. A seat is out of the question. I swing my large bag onto my shoulder so the perv behind me can step back off of my arse. He obviously missed the look of death I hurled his way.
"Excuse me, sorry" he mumbles guiltily as I push my bag into his abdomen.
Amazingly, some seats open up at the next stop and the men don't rush past the women to sit. I walk toward the seat and hesitate as I realize it's next to a mother holding her school aged kid in her arms. (Yawl know I hate little, snot nosed, rug rats.)
I quickly weigh my options; stand and risk hurting feet or sit by the kid. Ugghhh, I grumble to myself as I sit.
I've barely touched the seat before the little wench kicks me. All I can think is, "My stockings!!" I jerk my leg away and shoot daggers from my eyes, at the young mother who hasn't turned down a blunt in 10yrs judging by her skin and dark lips. She looks tired and like she needs a blunt right now. "I'm sorry miss" she says not at all, apologetically. Wait, you have the nerve to be mad at ME and it's ur satan spawn kicking me? I roll my eyes and say through clenched teeth, "You're fine. Don't worry about it." The kid squirms around in her mom's lap as she tries to restrain her. I finally look at the kid. My heart melts. The biggest saddest eyes look up at me from the cutest little face which is wrinkled up in pain as snot drips from her button, nose. I feel bad for mummy, as she tries to adjust the kid in her lap and take tissue from her pocket while the munchkin whines and kicks me again. I keep looking over at the baby who is obviously sick and in some sort of pain. I mentally take inventory of what's in my purse, wondering if I have anything to soothe her. I don't.
I look down at her little face and feel a little pang of guilt because I can't do anything to help her. I allow the music to envelope me to the point that I can almost ignore the kicks that continue throughout my entire commute. Mummy is saying something. I remove my earbud and ask her to repeat herself. "I'm sorry she keeps kicking you, she has an ear infection." I smile waving away her apology and tell her not to worry about it. As we approach my

stop I squeeze her arm and wish her a good day and good health for the munchkin. I verbally pat myself on the back for behaving like a human before I've had my tea. I think, "Man, that meditation and prayer this morning worked." I stand and make my way to the open door where a man stands, literally, in the middle of the doorway as people are trying to exit. "Move out of the fucking way, IDIOT!" I snarl as I push him out of the way.
Yeah, so much for that.

*ding dong*
Thank you for riding the MTA

~PALE SHENANIGANS EDITION~

As "Hunter" by 30 Seconds to Mars fades and Ludacris sings "I feel like slappin' somebody today. Slap slap", I'm not in the mood for the pale shenanigans.
I'm cranky. I've had a shit day at work and I'm running late for class. I'm  waiting for the express train during rush hour. The platform isn't super crowded but the local train arrives and people file out to wait for the express.
Most people find a place to stand behind those of us who have obviously been standing there but when the train arrives, this fucking privileged Becky decides to scoot her little ass in front of everyone as we stand to the side to allow people off. She stands directly in front of me and swings her hair.
Bitch, whet!?!?!
It takes everything in me not to grab her by her fucking hair but I cannot control myself, "No bitch! Not today!" I say as I push her pale ass to the side and get on the train. It's almost comical the indignation on her face. I shake my head.
As I pull out my iPad to read, I feel something on my bare leg. I look down and realize it's the foot of the pigment deficient bitch sitting in the seat in front of me.  She's sitting with her legs crossed, on the train, during rush hour. You've got to be fucking kidding me. No patience left. "Ma'am can you get you're fucking foot offa me!?" She kicks me again. I kick the fuck out of her and then push her foot to uncross her legs. 
Not today bitch! Not today!
She stares at me in disbelief with her mouth agape. 
I tilt my head to the side like that auntie uncle man from scared straight. 
"What?!" 
She averts her eyes and gets off the train when the doors open.
I snuggle into her vacated seat with a smile and continue reading my book.

*Ding dong*
Thank you for riding the MTA.

~SPRING BLIZZARD EDITION~

I've stayed at work far later than I had planned, but I wanted to get my patients squared away with their prescriptions before the weekend and it's not like anyone else is going to take care of it.
It's Friday. I'm about to TURN UP! On my couch with a glass of merlot or Grand Marnier. Ha!
I finally leave the office, after five, satisfied that the patients are taken care of and I won't have extra work on Monday which is always an extremely busy day.
It's the first day of spring and it's snowing. A LOT. It's a blizzard! (Not really.) It feels like it's been winter for a year. I arrive at the train station and the platform is beyond crowded. I'm kicking myself for staying late when three trains come and go before I'm able to get on.
I refuse to get upset.
It's Friday.
I won't have to do this for another two days.
I take solace in this thought.
I take the train one stop and transfer to the express which is moving at a pace that is anything BUT express; stopping in between stops and sitting at stations longer than it should.
Still...I refuse to get upset.
When the train takes a different route and then the announcement, "This is the last stop" halfway through my commute, the stream begins to slowly leak from my ears. Everyone steps off of the train onto an already crowded platform. Apparently many trains have gone out of service. I wait to see what happens as another train pulls into the station a couple seconds later but it too goes out of service. I walk downstairs to the platform where my train was supposed to have pulled in. I don't get excited that a train is already in the station and it isn't crowded because something feels off.
Wait...
It's dark and I don't hear the rumble of the AC. It's eerily quiet. This is not a good sign.
There is announcement about police activity or something. A sick passenger? Sure. I stand on the train for 10 minutes as people keep piling in, no doubt, after being told their train upstairs is out of service. Another announcement. "Loss of power at the next station...held in the station"
Reluctantly, I push through people to get off of the train and out of the train station.
I surface above ground to chaos.
Everyone is trying to catch a cab. The station is betwixt a junior college and a high school. Madness. Too many bodies. I'm about to snap. Did I mention there is a blizzard? I walk quickly across the street to the bus stop and wait for the express. I take a few deep breaths.
I'm calm.
The wind blows and the flakes slap me in the face.
The streets are covered in ice.
I listen to my music.
The bus comes and I sit in a seat, cringing at the dirt and grime on the wall in front of me. I quickly move when a single seat becomes available.
The windows are foggy and I keep wiping them to see where I am.
The bus has stopped but the light is green.
Flashing lights.
Sirens.
FML!
The police direct the bus pas the service lane and everyone looks out the windows on the opposite side of the bus...they gasp collectively. "It's a little girl." "Oh my God."
Murmurs.
I see an ambulance but I can't bring myself to get up to look out the window. I just want to get home to my bed and some alcohol. (I will later learn a child and a man were killed by a cab that jumped the sidewalk.)
I finally arrive at the stop where I need to transfer to another bus.
It's now after seven.
I feel the hint of a stress headache.
I do some deep breathing and try to relax. Everything just seems crazy. It feels like everyone that passed me is trying to bump me. Every person is going to attack me.
The bus arrives and I stand at the door. Am I having a panic attack?
I want to snap someone's neck.
Breathing is not helping I want to kill.
Before I know it the bus stops at my stop and I get off.
Back to civilization.
I'm home.
I'm pretty sure a single tear escapes as I kick off my shoes and strip, throwing all my clothes on the floor.
Finally.

*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

~BATTLE OF THE TRAIN PERFORMERS EDITION~

I know it's been forever. I had to tell this story. lol

I've gotten into the practice of trying to begin my day with positivity through guided meditation and reciting positive mantras and affirmations while on my morning commute. 

Not only so that I don't kill anyone in a psychotic rage while on the train..but for my overall well being.

I've settled into my seat with my tablet and morning beverage in hand and a smile on my face.

I'm reading positive quotes as the train pulls into the next station. People pile onto the train racing for seats. I notice a man with what appears to be a violin case. He looked like he may have been a music teacher, dressed in slacks and a striped collared shirt. He sets the case onto the floor. 

Standing at the door as they are closing is the small black man with his bible. He speaks in an extremely loud voice, "Good morning!" and he goes into his religious spiel. The man with the violin tries to dart for the already closing doors and they close in his face. The woman sitting across from me busts out laughing at the look of despair on the man's face. He's looks like a trapped animal.  

I assume he realizes he is on an express train and will skip about 10 stops. He mutters something and stands against the door to the left of me. I shrug it off and I'm about to continue reading when I hear him begin to sing

softly and strum the strings of his instrument. 

Realization hits me as the mini battle of the preacher and the musician begin. 

I feel like I am in the twilight zone as the man, to my left, plays and sings trying to drown out the preacher, and the preacher across from me to the right screams ever louder trying to wake the dead. 

I look back and forth between them in amusement. 

Is this really happening? 

So, neither of them is going to leave the other to this train car? 

No?

Ok. 

Finally, the singer stops and puts away his instrument. I shake my head and begin my meditation. 

*ding dong* 

Thank your for riding the MTA

~Cranky~

Ever just want to punch a bitch in the face or toss a hot beverage in their direction?
I haven't had a good nights sleep in DAYS!

I'm cranky and my eyes are barely open as I wait for the train, tea in hand, heels in bag.
The train approaches and everyone inches toward the edge of the platform. The race for seats will start as soon as the doors open.
I am directly in front of the train door. I step aside to let the passengers off and to allow the pregnant woman to go ahead of me. 
I feel a slight push that becomes increasingly more aggressive. 
Is this person blind therefore they cannot see the people exiting the train? 
This MUST be the answer I think as I turn to look behind me, in disbelief. 
It's a perfectly healthy young woman who has the nerve to roll her eyes at me for not pushing past the people to get onto the train. I swing my huge bag over my shoulder in hopes that it slaps the shit out of her. 
She's still pushing me as I begin to step onto the train. 
I want to snatch her by her unnatural blonde/orange hair and kick her in the face. Instead I simply block her so she cannot sit before the pregnant girl, or me for that matter.
I settle into my seat and look up to see her giving me the stare of death.
I laugh at her and settle in for my nap.
Bitch.

*ding dong*
Thank you for riding the MTA

~Hood Booger family Edition~

I hate hoodboogers. I hate the way they smell. I hate the way they speak. I hate that they procreate and bring children into the world. I hate their dusty lil, disrespectful kids. *rolls eyes*

I'm rushing. My nap after Sunday service turned into a long sleep and I have somewhere to be.
Dressed in a white dress and cream trench with a pink flower in my hair, I'm the picture of prim and proper perfection. 
The train arrives and I inspect the seat before sitting. 
Just as the doors are about close a chick throws her bag onto the train laughing and speaking loudly she and what appears to be her dusty hoodbooger crew run onto the train.
Nostrils flared, body tensed, I become aggravated as she sits her dusty, however cute, kid beside me.
The kid immediately begins swinging her legs. I'm imagining her foot connecting with my bare leg and me flinging her across the train car.
She's whining about something and reaching across my face to her mother asking for something.
I'm not a fan of grubby paws in my face. I want to rip her arm out of it's socket. I see the mother with a black, bodega bag filled with junk. Doritos, cheese popcorn, etc.
The kid wants the Doritos. The hoodbooger mother says, "You don't want the popcorn? It's healthy!" Poor delusional soul. 
The kid swings her legs in what appears to be the beginnings of a tantrum. I look on in disgust and disbelief as the mother concedes and hands over the cheesy Doritos.
The rugrat begins to lick, one side then the other, of the chip. Her hands orange from the imitation cheese. 
She proceeds to crunch and crackle and I watch as Dorito crumbs spray all over her shirt and the small space between us. 
The mother quickly leans across me and flicks the chip crumbs onto the train floor.
At this point I'm sure there is smoke coming from my ears. 
I keep looking at the little girl and her hands expecting the train to suddenly jerk and her grubby little orange fingers to touch me. 
As the train pulled into the next station, a few s

eats opened up and the mother moved the child to sit next to her.
I realized it was not a band of merry hood boogers at all, but a mother and her two daughters. 
They were hood for sure but I realized the mother was dressed in scrubs. Clearly she has a job.
The kids weren't dirty..just dressed badly. Gaudy, urban, fashion.
As I watched her hug and kiss the little one and talk and laugh with the other, I saw a loving mother and her kids.
I immediately felt ashamed for having judged her from her attire.
I took out my fone and began to type.

*Ding dong*
Thank you for riding the MTA

~ Chivalry is dead Edition`

I'm slightly out of breath because I had to run to catch the train. (I didn't want to be late for work, AGAIN)
It appeared that all the men on the platform had pushed past all the women to get on the train first.
I watched a man push past a woman and her child to get a seat.
I sucked my teeth and sneered in disgust.
Maybe I'm crazy.
Maybe I'm from a different time (though these men were clearly older than me..although u can never tell with Europeans.)
Maybe I was just raised better.
As R. Kelly swooned in my ears about getting lost in my love, I pondered where common courtesy had gone and why men nowadays find it ok, NOT to let a woman sit first or give up their seat for a woman.
I read the advertisements for "Zipcar" rentals.
"No booty call shall go unanswered", "the official vehicle of 'Get your stuff out of my apartment'"
As I wondered who had come up with this nonsense, the train pulled into the next station.
A visibly pregnant woman entered the train.
I look around at all the seated men who suddenly have fallen asleep, shaking my head in disgust.
I look around at all the standing women and seated "men" knowing if any of the women were sitting they'd have given her their seats.
Sneering at a little prick who finally gets up and asks if she wants to sit (because he's getting off) I know that I'm going to be in a bad mood for the rest of the morning

 *ding dong*

~Thank You for riding the MTA~

~Bonnie & Clyde Edition~

As "Snow Patrol" screamed into my ears about a lighthouse or something, I sauntered onto the local train.
Your neighborhood thug, homeboy from the hood brandished a foreign bottle of beer, his arm around a very blonde Becky. I'm guessing from the look on his face that he's expecting me to be angry or roll my eyes because of this.
Pfft, he was far from anything I'd look twice at. I wouldn't have dated him so I wouldn't have cared less if he was with an albino alien.
Bundled up like an Eskimo, only my eyes are visible as I exit the train and cross the platform sliding into a seat on the waiting express train. 
I had planned to catch a few Zzzs but what sat across from me was far better than a half assed nap. 
Dressed in all black, sat a boy so beautiful my mouth dropped open. (Pls note the above picture does not encompass the beauty that was him.)
His strong thighs were parted as he leaned forward resting his elbows on them.
His olive skin was smooth and his full pink lips parted for me to see beautiful, huge white teeth. Thick black lashes fluttered atop chiseled cheek bones and opened to reveal dreamy, dark eyes.
He wore Dre Beats and a hood so only the front of his hair was visible and showed a patch of grey. I was intrigued. 
I stole glances every few minutes, drawn to his mouth.
I am almost positive he knew I was watching and was putting on a mouth show just for me.
I blinked rapidly as he licked his lips. Then bit his bottom lip. Then smiled slightly.
I rolled my eyes.
The train slowed to a stop at the next station.
A couple boarded and I giggled to myself because she was hispanic and he was white but they reminded me of Jay-Z and Beyonce in the "03 Bonnie & Clyde" video with her in tan knee boots and he in timbs. "Hood love" I thought. 
My mind wandered as I remember the words, "And he'll do anything necessary for her, so don't let the necessary occur. YUP" 
I smiled.
That will always be OUR song.

*ding dong*
Thank you for riding the MTA

~Late Night Edition~

It's late.
I should be in a cab but I'm all the way on the lower east side.
When it's the difference between a $50 cab and a swipe of the metrocard and I'm dressed in work clothes? I'm going to save that $50.
I've had a few drinks and no sleep so as soon as I sit, my eyes close.
As the song on my iPod changes from Dwele to Fred Hammond, the train jerked and halted in between stops.
My eyes struggle open and my eyes meet a set of greenish grays.
He's fat. His attire is horrid. Dark blue wind breakers, sneakers, a camel pea coat, a gold watch and chain straight out of the eighties. But I can't stop staring at his face. He is racially ambiguous. Reddish hair peaking from the sides of his ugly skully hat with a beard to match. His fat face is covered in freckles the same colour as his hair.
I'm not attracted in the slightest but I'm intrigued by his strange, unique beauty.
I blatantly stare at him trying to figure his ethnic origin. I'm completely stumped.
My eyes slowly close again as the train crawls through the tunnels.
My eyes open again as the train stops. It has pulled into the next station.
I see what appears to be a 10 year old child carrying her little sister who is almost as big as she is.
I wonder where they could be coming from this late and why their parents have them out in the streets.
I lean my head back to go back to sleep and look over at the little girls again, only to realize it is actually a very tiny mother and child.
I find myself staring at the small woman with her absolutely precious little girl, dressed in pink. The little girl looks exactly like her mom. I smile as I watch both sets of tiny feet swinging. Neither of them tall enough for their feet to touch the floor.
The little girl takes out a banana from her little pink bag and peels it. She has what appears to be a notepad in her hand and is writing.
I stare a little longer.
As I stare at her tiny little face and huge teeth, I begin to wonder if she is indeed a child at all or if she is just a really small lady. 
I'm sleepy. That's preposterous. 
Right? 

*ding dong*
Thank You for Riding the MTA

*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

~Cranky Pants Edition~

It's the first day back to work after a four day weekend.
I'm cranky. I woke up early but lie in bed far longer than I should.
I wrap my pink pashmina around my neck and throw on my white leather. I stick a hot pink bow into my fro, knowing that it does not match,AT ALL, with the clothes beneath my jacket.
I curse "Fun Pete", in my mind, for stealing my pale pink bow.
I have no time to cook breakfast. I grab a banana and rush out the door. I need a pick me up. I'm ridiculously sluggish. My face is tight and drawn from a fresh scrub and I'm wearing no makeup. (Not even LIP-GLOSS! The horror! Lol)
I decide to walk across the parkway to McDonald's for a Caramel Mocha (my latest addiction.)
I KNOW I'm not imagining people staring at me.
I'm cranky.
I try to ignore it but as a Hispanic woman, who looked to be in her 40s, looks me up and down I ask, "What the fuck are you lookin' at?!" She, understandably shocked, turns away.
I suck my teeth and continue to get my coffee.
I order. I wait as the young lady takes two more customers. She's moving at snail pace.
I look at my phone and see that I'm not late...yet.
I wait.
I'm cranky
After a while I scream, "Where the fuck is my coffee!?"
The girl jumps and rushes to make my coffee.
I'm oblivious to the stares at this point. I just want my damned coffee and to be on my way.
As I snatch my coffee, I grunt at her mumbles of having a nice day.
As I reach the train station I see the train will arrive in one minute. I don't have a metro-card.
I curse as I run to the machine to make my purchase.
I hear the train arrive.
I hear the train leave.
I roll my eyes as I curse myself for stopping for coffee.
I stomp up the steps. Stomach growling.
I pull out my banana.
I take a few bites and as I look into my purse three, pigment deficient females, shaped like refrigerators, pass. One so close I almost think she is going to try to take a bite of my banana.
THIS is the last straw! I scream like a banshee and I smash the banana in her face and yell, "You want some!!??!! Huh!?!? You fat bitch!!"
I blink rapidly. An evil snarl of delight on my face as I watch the three refrigerators continue down the platform.
Realizing I was having another of my "Alley McBeal moments", I shake my head and say a little prayer. I have GOT to get control of this little angry monster trying to take over my being, today.
After ten whole minutes the train finally arrives. It sits in the station for five minutes. I only have to take this train two stops before I transfer. It takes the train 15 minutes to get to my stop. I try not to scream expletives while I watch my express train take off as the train I'm on inches into the station.
Another train arrives five minutes later.
I look at the time. I roll my eyes as a man tries to push past me to grab the seat we both spot. I stick my elbow out and pass him, entering the train.
I snuggle into the seat. A little TOO happy at my tiny victory.
Again the train begins to move at snail pass. It's supposed to be EXPRESS!! Why are we going this slow if we are bypassing 10 stations?
I look at the time.
NOW I'm late.
Happy fucking Monday!

*ding dong*
Thank You For Riding the MTA!

~Honey Coated Chocolate Dread Edition~

 I stood on the platform. Face freshly scrubbed and partially covered by my "Hollywood Mocha" shades. I wearing no makeup and my afro is pushed back into a large afro puff, adorned with a little brown bow. I'm wearing my new favorite leather jacket with fur peaking from the sleeves and collar. I'm in jeans and flat Pocahontas boots. I look anywhere from 12 to 35 years old and this is evident by the range of guys trying make eye contact with me.The tall slender lad in his skinny jeans and chuckers is peeking at me from under his baseball cap. I turn completely away from him only to face a West Indian or African man, who looks to be in his late 40s or 50s. He's dressed in a suit and slick dress shoes. He's smiling at me. I grimace and avert my eyes only to catch the eye of the only one who appears to be near me in age. Dressed in baggy jeans, Timbs, a skully and Letterman jacket, he is staring. I'm not interested. He looks like he's an aspiring rapper if that makes any sense. The train arrives. They all sit relatively close. The teen sits directly across from me and is preoccupied with his iPhone but glances at me occasionally. He has dimples and very broad shoulders. I wonder exactly how old he is. "NOT OLD ENOUGH!" A voice screams in my head. The old perv has found a new young girl to leer at. More people have joined us in this car and it appears there are no other females left on earth because more men enter at each stop and they are all staring. I realize the guy who looks to be in his 30s has been staring at me the entire time and is even leaning out of his seat to peer around the people who have entered the train. I look at him in disbelief. He smiles. I roll my eyes and turn my attention to the book I have pulled out of my bag. He stands to get a better view of me. I now want to fight him. It's one thing to admire but THIS? This is ridiculous. Just when I suck my teeth and prepare to ask him wtf his problem is, "You're the desert sand, I'll be the water. You're the perfect plan I never thought of..." Daley sings into my ears, the doors open and in walks a honey coloured, 6ft something dread, dressed in a black trench, jeans and suede shoes. I feel the corners of my mouth twitch as I try to hold back a smile. His dark, reddish brown locks are tied back by a few strands.I realize I'm staring and my mouth is hanging open. I wipe the drool as I feel the teens eyes burning a hole into my face.The dread was totally unaware of my existence so I continued to stare and take him all in. He was slightly bow legged with strong hands that looked as if they would be good to not only build a house from a tree but also feed me berries and wash my hair. He was slightly bow legged. I began to plan out wedding and how many kids we'd have but my fantasy was short lived as he exited the train shortly after. I followed him with my eyes until the train pulled away.The teen was staring and he appeared to have an attitude with me now.I chuckled to myself thinking, "Welp! Guess OUR relationship is over"I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat trying to remember every detail of the dread as I drifted off to sleep.

*ding dong*
~Thank You for riding the MTA~

~Missed Connection~

As I teetered onto the train hands full, I was struck by how unattractive the pregnant woman was who sat in the seat across from where I stood. I almost grimaced.
As the train came to a stop a few minutes later I walked off to wait for the express train.
As I walked down the platform, dressed in a white dress shirt, a pea green shrug, and my high waisted, grey, pin stripped, magic slacks, the train pulled out of the station. The train operator, an older Hispanic man smiled at me. I rolled my eyes.
I passed a beautiful girl with a mini afro that had been dyed blonde. We lock eyes for a second and smiled at the same time. (This seems to be the thing among pretty, natural girls who look like they spend afternoons sipping lattes at New York City Cafes.)
I turned around to look at the display to see when the next train would be arriving. I groaned in my head as I saw a man walking towards me.
I was positive he had fallen victim to the magic pants and was going to talk to me.
I was not in the mood to talk.
I looked past him as he stopped beside me.
He was talking. I half rolled my eyes as I removed one ear bud from my ear and turned toward him.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"How do you stay so in shape?", he asked.
"I eat well," we both looked at the greasy paper bag I was holding and I chuckled and added, "...most of the time."
He argued that I MUST work out. I'm aware the affect these pants have. The high waist accentuates and exaggerates the size of my actual waist.
While it is probably 27in, the hip to waist ratio in these pants makes it look like 25in, easily.
He continues to try to get me to admit that I work out.
He says, "You know, your body is nice but that's not even my biggest attraction to you."
I take a bite of my pizza, staring into his face, waiting for him to continue.
He's kind of handsome. He's a bit older. Maybe in his early 40s. Medium brown complexion. Perfectly lined salt and pepper goatee. He could almost pass for one of the Wayans brothers.
I hated his attire. I wondered if he was an MTA worker getting off work. He carried a backpack.
I wait.
I take another bite of my pizza, "I apologize for being rude and eating but I'm hungry and I don't really care."
He laughs then says, "it's your hair."
"What's my hair?"
"The fact that you are confident enough to rock your natural hair when so many woman need all these extras..."
I was half listening, half thinking, "Where is my train? This pizza is awful!"
He pulls me into the convo and we begin a discussion on people's perception of beauty and Lil Kim and Nicki Minaj.
And the outside influences that shape oue perceptions.
I remove the other ear bud and give him my full attention.
An intelligent convo. I'm actually engaged in it. Smiling and chattering as if we've known each other for years.
He says, "I'm going to stay with you 'till you train comes. I'm not gonna ask you your name cause you're comfortable being rude and I can hear you saying 'none of your business'"
I laugh.
I do not tell him my name.
I do not ask his.
My train is arriving.
He does not ask for my number.
Instead he says, "I hope to see you again tomorrow. If I do, it was meant to be and I'll ask for your name and number."
I smile as I enter the train and sit down.

I didn't see him the next day or the day after that.
Guess it wasn't meant to be.

*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA