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.

~Candy Shop Edition~

Bright red trench coat, Hollywood shades, Burberry scarf, hair parted down the middle, large cream Fendi spy bag, 4 inch boots, Rihanna (who, I'm embarrassed to admit, I secretly love) blasting in my ears.
I'm in a zone, eyes closed, head bobbing, mouthing the words, "I'm breakin' dishes up in here, Uh huh. I ain't gonna stop till I see po-lice lights, I'ma fight a man tonight, I'ma.." I stopped mid word.
A heavenly, manly fragrance wafts past my nose. My eyes snap open as my nose draws my body to find the source. I stop at a huge blue eyed, Yankee cap wearing, pigment deficient man with a goatee. You know the type. Irish, Polish, or Italian decent with a heavy New York accent. He could easily be a cop or a construction worker. He was staring at me. I inched closer. He continued to stare. I was so close our shoes touched. I grabbed him by his jacket pulling his neck down to my nose, sniffing as if my life depended on it. I started humping his leg as everyone stood watching with their mouths open.

The train pulled into the station. I blinked rapidly and chuckled to myself as I realized I had had an Ally McBeal moment. I looked over at him to see him staring. He has a slight smirk. I wonder if he has telepathic powers and knows what I was just thinking. I feel my face flush.

I walk onto the train and it's as if I've walked into the male candy shop. There's a hot Asian guy reading on a pocket sized device while bopping to his music. The honey colored, homeboy from the hood with a cute nose is dressed in a white sweat suit and timbs..I avert my eyes. (I don't do homeboys from the hood, especially with no fashion sense). The cute Dominican guy with his red Aeropastle baseball cap is peeking over at me.

I take a seat and look up. Across from me sits heaven. He's not exactly cute. His skin is almost as black as his perfectly lined, slightly wavey hair. His black jacket is a cross between a peacoat and a raincoat..very stylish. I look down for a wedding band to see the sexiest hands I've ever seen.

I realize two songs have passed and I'm still staring. Thank God I'm wearing these shades. "" Rihanna sings into my ears and I close my eyes mouthing the words along with her. Still lip singing I open my eyes to see the chocolate hunny smiling.

I stare for a while and begin to size him up. He doesn't look very tall. His legs appear muscular in the perfectly tailored charcoal slacks. I look down to see his computer bag/man purse resting between his feet. Feet that wore...Crocks!! *gag*

I look back up at his face in disbelief. Rolling my eyes I turn my attention back to the Asian guy who's shoes look Italian.



*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

~The Deranged Edition~

I've had a not so great week, so I'm meeting up with the girls at our favorite little treasure in Harlem. It's chilly but not freezing. Dressed in a fur vest and hat, jeans and boots, I walk onto the train.


I sit between a guy dressed in a knit winter hat and a huge coat and a petite girl wearing a tiny flight jacket.

I sit back in the seat and feel my phone vibrate. I sit up to remove it from my pocket and sit back again. I respond to a few bbm messages and put the phone back in my pocket. A song begins to play that I'm not in the mood to hear. I lean up again and pull my IPod from my pocket to skip to the next song and lean back. I'm totally oblivious to the fact that I'm bumping the people beside me with each move I make.

My phone vibrates again and I lean up. The guy to my right sucks his teeth and bumps me slightly with his elbow.

I look at him incredulously because he used MY move against me! The nerve!

I bump him back "accidentally".

"Miss, you keep bumping me!” he spits. I look him up and down wondering if I could take him in a fight. I roll my eyes and growl, "So? It wasn't on purpose.""Well you didn't say sorry!""What are you, three? Gimme a break, the train is crowded." I snarl as I turn my attention back to my phone. Why did I do that?! All hell broke loose!

"You bitch!" He screams. My head snaps to face him. "What!?" And so began his tirade. "You stupid bitch! You think you're so fucking cute with your fur. I don't give a fuck about you. I fight girls. I just got outta jail. I don't care if I go back. It's nothing to me."

As I stared at him I knew I had two choices: get into a screaming match with a fool which would possibly lead to a physical altercation or ignore him.

As I continue to stare into his eyes I reach into my pocket to retrieve my vibrating phone he says, "I don't care, call your man. I'll beat his ass too." At this point I realize this dude is clearly deranged because we are on the train and he's telling me to call my man to come fight him as if we are in the park or at school. "Fucking idiot, stfu" I say as, again, I turn my attention back to my phone and ignore him. He gets upset and stands up telling me he hates me. I continue to ignore him and he leaves.

I'm suddenly aware of the people around me and I look up. The heavyset, west indian woman across from me is peering over her glasses giving me the, “Girl he's crazy" look. The small girl beside me inches closer to me. I look at her thinking she's strange.

My hand begins to tremble slightly as I think about how that COULD have gone.

The train is approaching my stop so I get up and stand by the door. I hear a familiar voice say, "Fake ass America's Next Top Model ass bitch"

I laugh as I exit the train saying, "You must be missing your cell mate." The train doors close slowly as he begins another tirade. I stick out my tongue and give him the finger as the train pulls away.

Lmfao.

 

*Ding Dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA

*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