I had an especially awesome couple of days last week…I get on my good old trusty A train and look up and see a woman staring out the subway door windows like its a freaking depression medication commercial all while trying NOT to get woozie from the graphic CityMD ad.  My nausea only started changing directions as the guy above me literally interrupts my thoughts with his productive belch…while standing over me.
I switch trains at Columbus Circle and this train is jam (JAM) packed and I am standing in between a tone deaf woman “singing” about every third word of whatever song she is listening to and a woman whose apparent job it is to chew and click her gum like Rosie Perez…in any movie.  The woman next to the singing woman is picking stuff out of her teeth and flicking it to the ground (read: all of our shoes).  Can you Purell shoes?

Then I was riding in a cab home later that day and as we are cruising up the FDR, I notice my driver is jamming to his music.  Then the harmonica solo comes in (as any good song should have) and I realize it sounds quite crisp.  Yes, my cab driver is also playing the harmonica in the front of the cab.  #crushingit

Then the next morning that trains were especially horrible with the UN in session and the Pope coming to town.  There is no way to accurately portray just how crowded.  Of course there is this girl that not only refuses to hold on to the pole, but actually leans on it and uses her freaking butt cheeks to gather some balance all while squishing the hands of all those actually holding onto the pole with her back.  I aggressively flick my hand hoping she gets the drift.  Nope.  It’s about that time that a man who had been previously tucked nicely away in the corner decides it would be better to scoot to the middle and try to also squish his hand onto the pole. I stop caring and continue to read my book until I realize the pinching sensation I am feeling is coming from his OVERLY long fingernail pressing into my hand.  I am horrified and quickly move my hand down and make a face.  Back to my book…then not a minute later his sweaty hand is now resting against mine and two of his fingers are wrapping around mine.  No.  No sir.

You CANNOT make this stuff up.
#talesfromtheAtrain #talesfromtheDtrain #nyc #blondiesperception