Because I have a previous theme of “commuter nightmares” posted here, I figured I’d oblige. Since I was actually on my way to finish up x-mas shopping, it doesn’t count as a true WORK commuter hell story, but as I was on the train, it will suffice.
Ok, on Friday the 24th, the most evil shopping day of the year, I needed to finish up the shopping. (by default – I had the day off, and Sara had to work all day.) I’m efficient when it comes to train usage, so my first destination was to the Target down on south Clark St., just south of the loop, and work my way north. (not South enough to be considered “south side” – there are SOME sketchy areas, but it was 10am in the freaking morning – no fears there)
Anyway, I’m about 2 stops from my final destination, and a man comes onto the train, intentionally bumps someone exiting as he is coming on – they appear to have some words, but I can’t tell what’s said as my seat is too far and they weren’t yelling or anything. The man that was entering the train proceeds onto the train, starts walking down the aisle directly toward me. I notice he has a cigarette, and I quite possibly could have made an irritated face, I don’t remember. I fucking HATE when people smoke on the train – to me, it’s the ultimate in rude, so Smoking Guy might have seen me make said face. Who knows. All I know is he stops right next to my seat, leans over toward my face, and proceeds to exhale all of his secondhand smoke into my face, and proceeds on down the aisle (I’m too dumbfounded to speak, meanwhile), goes to the other entrance door, pulls the emergency release thing-y, the doors open, and he steps right back onto the platform. As he is walking away, and the doors are closing behind him, he passes by my window. I knock my fist against the window to get his attention, he turns to look, and I flip him off and say “FUCK YOU” --- I didn’t yell it --- who needs to? Those are the easiest words in the English language to lip-read.
Then, my heart jumps into my throat, because upon seeing me flip him off , he leaps back toward the door, trying to catch them before they slide shut --- so he could get back on the train and what? Blow more smoke? Tell me “fuck you too”? beat the shit out of a woman?
Who knows. We’ll never really know what his intention was there, as the doors mercifully slid closed.
The train pulled away from the station, with me still flipping off the entire Jackson Street stop platform.
Total elapsed time? 10 seconds – tops.
Much like THIS one:
And where do you think she sat?
RIGHT NEXT TO ME
If you’ve ever sat on the El trains in Chicago, that “2 seater” right next to the door is always a tight fit ANYWAY. Well, then I’m sitting there, and lets just say my “girth” spills over to the seat next to me a bit………..
And then the puffy fur coat lady smushes down next to me.
And then proceeds to bend over while sitting, rooting around in her bag (I think?). Putting away her hat, putting away her gloves, putting away her sunglasses, getting out a magazine….blah, blah, blah.
Every time she bent over, her legs widened, and then proceeded to PRESS her fur against me.
Sara is DIRECTLY across from me, and I CAN’T SAY ANYTHING FUNNY.
It was a sarcastic person’s nightmare.
So, for the next stop or 2, Sara and I keep trying not to look at each other, because we are 5 seconds away from BURSTING OUT LAUGHING.
The “man with the worst comb-over in Chicago” got on the train.
MUCH LIKE THIS ONE!
I thought I was going to burst. I’m just now feeling recovered.
(edit: many thanks to www.combover.com for the lovely picture of the comb-over man. this is a website I will need to peruse at a later date. Their website's tagline is (no lie) "No Rugs! No Drugs! No Plugs!". Seriously)
Hey ya'll, My Theatre company Speaking Ring Theatre is holding it's 3rd annual Playwriting Festival in June of 2005, but we have just recently started advertising for submissions.Follow the linky to the festival info page on our website, and read up on the rules for submissions, etc.This is a very well attended festival, and the past 2 years have gotten good press, great casts, talented directors, and WONDERFUL playwriting!!!!Let me know if you have any questions!
In case you don't know them, Mace & Thales are the sweetest gals ever, and are ALWAYS thinking of other people - never themselves. I love you guys.
I know we give hugs whenever we see each other, but I want it to be known that I truly love you guys with all my heart. Your friendship is one of the most important things to me, and I will always treasure it.
In this case, though, I merely got some fillings. 3 to be exact. No pain with the drilling. The only point of panic I had was toward the end of the drilling, when I could SMELL my teeth smoking and burning from the drilling. (VOMIT).
I glanced down at one point while Dr. Shahin was holding my lip out of the way, and her glove was covered with blood. That wasn't so fun either.
But so far, no pain ::crossing fingers::
The novacaine is set to wear off soon. It's the weirdest feeling, seriously. Normally I can do a fairly approximate Elvis sneer/lip curl on my left side. I tell my brain to curl my lip, but it just sits there. it's totally bizarre. (attempting to do the lip curl is only happening in the bathroom, because when I try, I keep looking like a retard. seriously.)
Did I mention I'm drooling?
I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS! I AM MERELY FOLLOWING THE RULES!!!
(deep cleansing breath)
To top the whole day off, apparently, we found out that the local Hotel/Hospitality union in Chicago (H.E.R.E.), we will be attempting to infiltrate and recruit employees into the union. (our hotel is one of the few hotels in the city that is non-union) They have been known to use scare tactics and lies in the past. Great. They've also been known to call employees at home to talk about this. Double great.
someone pass the chocolate truffles and margaritas, please......I'm in need of some help here.....
Folks, you ride the train at least 5 days a week, twice a day, to and from work, most likely.
You KNOW that the train ride is usually a series of body jerks, and the train stopping short.
Why then, do you insist on not hanging on to something?
Every day, without fail, someone is not hanging on (they are either reading their book, or talking on their cell phone), and then the train starts to pull out of the station, and this person is then CATAPULTED either into the horde of people they are standing near, or they practicaly fall into the lap of someone sitting (namely, ME).
Is it a suprise to you that the train actually MOVED?
it's hard to tell on your face.
You don;'t appear embarresed that you nearly ending sitting in my lap.
You CERTAINLY don't appear apologetic that you stomped on the woman in front of you's shoes, or when you were jerked forward your oversized Burberry bag whacked me in the shoulder. Pardon me for having my shoulder in the path of your moving tote bag.
tomorrow's commuter observation: My amazement with commuters feeling all sanctimonius for offering up a 25 inch space for you to squeeze through in order to exit the train, when you hips are 48 inches.
I can suck in the gut, but those hips ain't going anywhere except rubbed up against you as I attempt to extract myself from the train.