Morning Commute Report

It sucked.
But then again, you were probably expecting me to say that.

What is up with people who glare at you when you gently bump into them on a packed train? For Chrissake, they should just take a goddamn cab if it's that much of an issue.

To the woman who busted my proverbial balls this morning, I have something to say:

First of all (and I can say this because I'm about 12 pounds overweight right now), if you're so fucking fat your ass takes up more than one seat, you have NO right to complain if I bump into you on the train. You should be happy that I didn't accidently step on one of the rolls of fat that are dripping off your Jabba-the-fucking-Hutt hips. Considering that we both look like Shamu, it's best not to attract to much attention to us, so shut the FUCK up.

Second, don't roll your eyes at me and sigh. I don't need the Shenay-nay attitude combined with the bovine expression. Save it for someone who gives a rat's ass. I have only had one coffee, I'm going in to a job that is about as interesting as picking my toenails (and about as profitable), and I want to get away from the guy with B.O. standing next to us as much as you do. I don't need your bullshit. Learn some fucking manners or do us all a favor and jump in front of the train the next time it comes around.

Third, don't knock my ass over as you try to get out of the train. You already gave me grief during our hellish 8 or 9 minutes ride to Union Square, don't make it worse by flattening me up against a goddamn pole as you try to use the Jaws of Life to extract your fat fucking ass out of the seat and out the door. I will shove back. With elbows.

And to the two queens that wouldn't stop babbling loudly about absolute bullshit:

Please save it for after you're out of the train, or at least lower your voice. I'm not interested in hearing nasal voices loudly describe the joys of Kenneth Cole and clubbing in my ear when I haven't had a chance to wake up...and also, when I don't have enough money to a) go out clubbing and b) buy the Kenneth Cole purse for $348 that I want. So CAN it, bitches.


This has been a Commuting Report.