tales from the crypt
On the 6: There were two Metrocard-only full-body turnstiles available to get onto the platform. One was completely malfunctioning and the other was damaged at best. All the riders were swiping, swiping, swiping with only every fifteenth swipe getting through. After I tried my card numerous times, I allowed another man to try and his card miraculously worked. He said, "C'mon, c'mon," and we squeezed together in the space designed for one body at most, escaped the turnstile, and went our separate ways with nary a word. I don't think I'll be pressing against strangers for transportation much in LA.
On the R: From the end of the car, I heard the hauntingly dulcet tones of a blind woman who often sings for change during the rush hour commute. She is the only person to whom I always give money whenever she appears. She broke into a rendition of "Always and Forever" and when she got to the line "Every day, love me your own special way...", a teenage couple at the opposite end of the car began to sing along. All the commuters paused to see whether this was cruel chicanery and instead we were treated to a chorus of moving harmonies and unexpected beauty.
On the 6: As I entered the station, a man stood in the corner, bouncing and flicking his exposed erection as if it were the first time he had ever had one.
2 comments:
It was not the first time!
But I had been standing there for hours, praying with all my might that someone would notice....until you finally passed by and noticed...and told the world.
Thank you, sharp-eyed stranger!
Yes, I've noticed him too. He shakes that thing around as though he's never done it before. I guess that's three of us who are on to him. I've been tempted to join him, in fact.
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