New York City subway system, I once again stumble
across the creepiness of people in general.
But that's towards the end of the story . . .
Alas there will be no moral with this tale,
only a fierce, finger-wagging warning to you youths
out there who aren't plagued by A.D.D.
(ironically, like yours truly.) to make it through
two paragraphs on this blog.
The day started as any other boring day at "the corporation",
yet I won't discuss what happens there, because as always,
it's moot. Not the boyishly clean cut 4chan founder mind you.
(evil things lurk there, stay away) Nothing of importance
occurs there, so let's just skip that black hole of an existence.
There is, funny enough, a coworker who I've learned called
me a "Douche bag" (with-a-capital-D) behind my back.
I was infuriated about this news (relayed to me by a friend)
Because, said offender has that look of, oh say, a rather
degenerate person who should be sitting across
from Chris Hansen, then fleeing and getting tased
by police. That's what that guy looks like.
This I can with confidence since
I've been compared to Brad Pitt...
no wait, Carlos Mencia. . .
Ah, and I've never forgiven the girl for saying it.
Anyway, I digress, see how
you've made me a chatty cathy?
So odd moment of the day today was making
my way to the mecca of pizzerias (and religious people,
I'm not equating a calling to a slice, so forgive me, I
can't find a better comparison)
(photo not by me)ARTICHOKE'S
14th street (between 1st and 2nd)
14th street (between 1st and 2nd)
Ah yes, Artichokes. The greatest pizzeria in the city
(well to me at least.) the slices are hearty, and chock
full of mozzarella, and artichoke and whatever the
hell else is in pizza... ah yes dough. At four dollars
a slice, it's forgivable, because the slice is three times
the size of a normal NYC slice. (Which now cost upwards
to 2.75, due to I think milk taxes going up)
And also it's run by Italians? I mean what? Who's seen
that in a while? Putting my inherently unfunny racist
humor aside. The pizza is good. The Artichoke slice is
breathtakingly, mouthwateringly, great-adjectively
excellent. I mean yes. I've sworn off all other "regular"
pizza because of it. A whole pie is twenty six dollars,
and I assume it would be the size of an umbrella with
about 6 slices in it. Who knows though.
When I'm at the perfect anorexic weight, I'll find out.
So yes, this has become about pizza, and no.... there's
nothing odd about that. I'll do a whole blog about artichoke,
later, not today. Well anyways, So I make my way over there,
and of course a little line is set up (or the queue at the
Europeans say, like they say toilet or loo, awwwww!)
I'm like "No I want my pizza now!" in my head...
anyways, right before I make the end of the line.
I see this
or well it was a person dressed in this suit,
It was the little woman image from the
female bathroom. (Not that I go into women's bathrooms,
well only once, but a trick was played on me, and I'm not
getting into it.) I see this thing/person stand right
behind one of the patrons and I make a quick beeline to
just outside the line, because I didn't want to become part
of some performance art.
I've been dryhumped against my will before and
I didn't want to receive such attention, let alone,
in public, again! So i quickly scanned the area like
the periscope of a sub. Left and right, right and left.
I was seeing if someone was at least taking a photo for
some guerilla art piece. So no, all I saw were dirty
hippies and clean hippies (skinny jeans people) So this
made my realization much more frightening.
The thing stood there posing, for a second,
I just kept looking around. Finally the thing
sauntered off, and I stepped right behind the
guy the thing was accosting. He said nothing,
I said nothing. All was good, though a gentleman
behind me with a camera also waited in line
for pizza stood behind me. He had a camera and
I was tempted to tell him there was some sort of
creature lumbering around uptown waiting for
him to capture it in all its' glory.
Ah well.
Bought two slices, One for now and one to heat up over
the weekend. Unfortunately the first slice was tiny so I
ended up eating both like a grotesque beast... but by all gods it
was delicious.
So anyways, I recover from the explosion of taste
(and brain nerve killing from my Aspartame fueled Diet Pepsi)
and started down to the subways. The trains were all
in a tizzy due to construction. So i had to make a couple
of connections here and there. And I sat across from an alluring,
attractive girl who stared at me for a full second before
her boyfriend started making out with her. So i couldn't
tell if I was going to get a look
of disgust, disturbed, or that haunting wink.
Ah well.
So I'm wiping my glasses down (only for cosmetic purpose
mind you, I'm no nerd, just a dweeb) and I look over to my
left and see an older man, in what i can say is like a fishing
cap. Carrying a large pink duffel bag, it had some sort of
cartoons on it, but it didn't register,
because when my glance slowly slid over his face he looked
me straight in the eyes
and winked.
Like a come hither wink. This disturbed me to such lengths,
that i basically plastered my face to the opposing window...
I mentally began taking baths. Also he got off the same
stop as I, and I really tried to leave last off the train,
since he got off first. By some strange happenstance
he was behind me as the crows was headed down the
stairs at our stop, I noticed this and as smoothly as possible,
ran busting through the crowd. I feared my poor sweet
derriere was to be pinched. THAT SCOUNDREL!
I'm not homphobic, mind you, I fight for gay rights.
The more gay men, the more frustrated, beautiful women!
Anyways, the moral to the story is, ah yes, there was no moral.
Go eat some Artichoke, and tell them Alex sent you.
that will mean Jack squat.
******************************************
What I listened to while writing this . . .
FABRICLIVE 37: CASPA & RUSKO
The album is amazing! I can't explain it...
it's just TOUGH!! (not tough to explain,
it's just TOUGH, son!)
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