Subways tend to be a venue rife with stress for me lately. I'm not a rich man, for if I were, I'd be chauffeured to work each and every day, or hell, I wouldn't work. So in keeping with this "I sorta make money but not really" theme, I made my lunch this morning, just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but nonetheless, a money saver down the road. I place the sandwich in a crazy holiday print Ziploc bag and put it in my work bag that I kicked off my bed in Puerto Rico (Bang Bang). Heading out the door, I'm feeling pretty good about my lunch, and rather protective, as it's not wrapped in thin sheet of bullet proof Kevlar, which would probably do the trick in keeping my sandwich in one piece.
I get on the lovely F (F for "You're going to get F'ed over on this train somehow") and stand, careful not to lean on anything as I don't want to crush my already vulnerable sandwich. Doing fine, up until Jay Street. Now 90% of the train usually empties out here to catch the A up the west side. Today, that wasn't the case. Nearly everyone stayed on and some jackass suit got on and proceeded to think he was too good to hold onto anything. So the train starts moving, and sure as sh*t, this moron falls RIGHT ONTO MY BAG. Now I'm furious, and proceed to give dirty looks, harsh sighs, and even a "jesus".
What's with people? I mean that guy sucks at life. He's all suited up, good for him. He's got the WSJ in his hand, again, I'm thrilled out my ass. But you're TOO GOOD to grab hold of something so you don't LAUNCH yourself into another human being? Seriously man. SERIOUSLY. "I am dressed in a suit and therefore am not subject to the same laws of gravity and other physics theorems that the rest of the world is. I won't fall as I'm made of money man and I'm perfect." Get a life and stop sucking at it.
Noonan OUT.
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