The 2 Train

So I took the N train to connect to the 2/3 today so I could get home. Wasn't planning on going to the gym because I still feel a little under the weather. And as usual, during the long trek to make my connecting train, my shoe comes untied. I'm not kidding, every time I decide to go home instead of going to the gym after work, my shoe comes untied during that time. It's so weird. I think the fates are trying to tell me something. "Ok fine", I sighed. "I'll go". So I turn around and head back to the N train. On my way I pass one of those statue/mime things. I HATE mimes. They scare the hell out of me. I can handle clowns, no problem. Because with clowns, if you tell one to get out of your face or you're going to kick in the crotch, they just squeak their nose and run away. Mimes have to act like the don't understand you and then pretend like they're trapped in a box. But the problem with the mimes in the Times Square subway is that they remain stationery until you give them money, or sometimes they just move all of a sudden and scare you. It's disturbing. Well I guess that's what you get with a $120,000 BA in Fine Arts from Tisch... you become a subway mime. Oh and also you're the snotty hostess at every restaurant in SoHo.

So I think I should've listened to my gut instead of my shoe, because I lasted only about 30 minutes at the gym before I decided to call it a night. And most of that 30 minutes was spent yapping. So I hop on the 1 train, determined to connect at 72nd street. On the way up, I had two of the worse subway offenders near me. On one side was a guy who must've pissed his girlfriend off, because she must've sewn shrimp shells and garlic cloves into his jacket lining and he just must not be able to tell. Holy god. Take a shower. On the other side I had side-winder. I use this term to describe the person who falls asleep and winds from side to side and inevitably ends up leaning on you, or worse yet, resting their head on you. Then you try to shift ever so slightly to get them to wake up, because although you want to shove them, you don't want to start something, especially because the side-winders are usually scary mofos. So I connect at 72nd and hop on the 2 train, which I normally take to 135th.

Then it happened... I became a hypocrite. Somewhere between 96th and 110th I fell asleep. And I used Michelin-Man-Puffy-Coat next to me as a pillow. The creepy/interesting/comfortable thing about it was that he let me. He departed the train at 125, slightly tapping my arm to tell me he was leaving. Oh please don't go.. I'm so tired... you are so comfy.... Oh fine. Leave. See if I care. Your posture was horrible anyway so my neck was craned all weird. So Michelin-Man was replaced by lady with scary fur coat, whom I was determined not to fall asleep on for fear of getting a hairball or something. I still drifted off, but against the bar at the end of the aisle.

So I sleep right through my stop...... and through the concurrent 13 stops or so. And I wake up at- get this- Gun Hill Road. Now, when you're an SWF in New York City and you're on the 2 train, you're scared enough. Now- imagine having all that going for you, but now you're in the Bronx at a friggin stop called GUN HILL ROAD. Cripes! So I get off at that stop and try to act all non-chalant, trying not to burst into tears. With my luck there aren't going to be anymore trains and I'll be stuck in the friggin Bronx for the rest of my life. Easy for Yankee games and easy for early mortality. Luckily a downtown 2 train came within 15 minutes so I got on that, which was, for some reason, packed. BUT- the awesome thing was that the singing hobos were there! I gave them a dollar and requested Sweet Adeline again. I love that song. They didn't know it, so they offered me my dollar back. How honest. "No," I said. "Keep it and buy yourself something nice". I wonder if they'll go for Absolut or Ketel One. Then they started singing Rockin' Robin and I laughed my ass off at the irony of it all. (For those of you that don't know, you-know-who dumped me on the dance floor of a Bar Mitzvah while that song was playing... pretty friggin funny when you think about it ;)

UPDATE: apparently I should've been perfectly OK with being in the middle of nowhere, in the Bronx, despite the fact that when I left the subway station to ask for directions, I was hassled no less than 7 times. I guess I'm just overreacting. Being told "I'm going to spit on you, cracker" should not have upset me. Got it. mmhmm. Should have taken it as the charm of NYC. And not as a hepatitis risk.. haha I'm such a hypochondriac. silly sarah.

But I digress... the subway scares the hell out of me. And I realized today after 2 years of riding it everyday for at least an hour a day-- New Yorkers are scary. I mean forget what you see on Sex and the City. There are a hell of a lot of fug and crazy people here. Seriously, New York City is probably the only place on earth where you can see a guy who is dressed all nice and could probably be a Calvin Klein underwear model, but then when you take a closer look, you see that he's reading Hop on Pop, holding the book upside down and singing to himself in Turkish. Yeah I'm not kidding. This happened to me. I have found that native New Yorkers are a bit more normal, but the scary thing is is that sometimes the tourists are the most normal people walking these streets.

Not that I'm trying to give the tourists any credit here. They annoy me to no end. I just feel bad because I know when I first got here, I was probably exactly like them. You know the types- stopping at the top, or bottom of the stairs at the subway. Winding back and forth on the sidewalk, walking slow as hell in a line of 4 so no one can get past... Yeah you know you did it when you visited here.. They all wear stupid hats too. No one in New York wears a hat. Not a winter one anyway. And the worst are tourists that you spot from a few feet away and you know, through some New Yorker's instinct, that these people will somehow be in your way for the next 10 minutes. Even if you cross the street, they'll cross too and cut you off and then stop in the middle of the sidewalk, etc. I think people should take tests to be able to come visit here. The test will be called "How not to be an idiot; or Sarah's guide to not getting on her nerves"
I know I'm a grumble bunny right now. I still don't feel well. And I'm praying that my cough is gone by Saturday, because I really don't want to be the cough-sniffle person at the opera that I'm always shushing.... :-/

But two happy updates- I did my taxes all by my little self! And according to Turbo Tax, who gave me another chance, my Federal return was accepted, which means I should be getting some money back. Swimming pools... movie stars.... I'm going to keep my return in safe keeping though, in case the IRS determines that I'm a fuck-up unless I'm filing government papers while drunk and I need the money for bail or something. Or booze. :-/

2nd update- today is my son, mr. phone the second's 1 week birthday. He is without scratches or bruises or broken parts. Must send him a card.... His older brother, mr. phone the first, is being kept in a jar on my kitchen counter. I just can't bear to get rid of him....