~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

~Whoopi Edition~

Dressed in a knee length, form fitting, black and white houndstooth dress, belted at the waist, with a pale pink bow in my afro, I am beyond tired.
I've removed my heels and replaced them with my fold away flats.
I'm walking down the subway stairs looking in my bag for my ipod as a group of teen aged kids run down the stairs screaming at each other. There are about five girls and a "boy", if you want to call him that.
The girls were dressed in very revealing clothing and I grimaced at the rolls of fat seeping from the sides of most of them. I looked up and locked eyes with the "boy" shaking my head and laughing as I put my headphones into my ears entering the train.
The teens rushed onto the train just as the doors were closing.
I was barely paying attention to them but it appeared that the "boy" had whispered to one of the girls and one by one they turned to look at me. Then one proceeds to stand directly in front of me shaking her weave talking with her back to me. The train jerked and she feel towards me. I shoved her, not tenderly, and stared at her waiting for her to say something. She looked at me and said sorry as her friends laughed. I rolled my eyes.
I guess the friends began to taunt her to say something to me. I looked her up and down and then the rest of them, sizing them up, wondering how many I could take out before they jumped me.
The one in front of me was a cute girl but the blonde hair attached to her head looked ridiculous.
She was slightly overweight and she wore black leggings and a shirt that was too small.
The song ended on my iPod as she was saying something. I looked at her..she was motioning towards me but not looking directly at me. I caught, "...look like Whoopi Goldberg"
I raised an eyebrow and removed my headphones. I hate teenagers. I WANTED her to have said something to me. I WANTED to punch her in the chest. Someone needed to. Her attire and hair was a clear indication of that.
"What?" I snapped with my lip turned up in a scowl.
The friends laughed. She mumbled something.
"Baby girl, you're fat. You have plastic hair with a Barbie doll hairline. Your opinion is irrelevant."
The train pulled into the station as her friends laughed, some stunned whispered "no uh, wut?"
I sashayed off the train to the arriving express train swinging my shoes in my hand.
I replaced my headphones and turned my iPod back on.

*ding dong*
Thank you for riding the MTA.

~Blue Eyed Beauty Edition~

Awakened abruptly, out of my sleep, by the jerking motion of the train, I rolled my eyes as the doors opened and people milled in.
I was struck by how terribly plain and downright unattractive some of the women were that entered the train.
A woman sat mostly on my lap. I was disgusted. She had one of those asses that looked like there was an entire person hiding in her pants. It was not attractive. In fact she looked like she smelled. I shook my head at myself for being so petty but snarled when she had the nerve to wiggle to fit more comfortably.
The train pulled into the next station and more people boarded.
I looked up at long dark lashes flapping over the bluest eyes I had ever seen.
Of course I had to take inventory of the owner of these eyes.
He was perfection on a warm summer morning. He was of average height, 5'10" or so, not orange tanned but a slight bit of color, dark hair combed back with just enough product that he didn't look as if he was wearing a helmet. He wore a stripped, pale pink, dress shirt that looked as if I was made just to fit his broad but not overly massive shoulders and dark grey slacks that hugged his perfectly toned behind. The pants fell just right over his tan oxfords.
I could not keep my eyes from roaming his body multiple times then resting on his mouth I thought, "Shit! He is GORGEOUS!"
I watched him as he watched the ugly Asian girl that stood in front of him. Shaking my head I stood as the train pulled into my station.
I passed him and then looked back to get one last peak. We locked eyes for all of five seconds. He smiled slightly as I exited the train and ran up the stairs.
I was late again.

*ding dong*

Thank you for riding the MTA.