Umbrelliquette

I HATE the rain. My dad taught me to never use the word hate, but I do for things I especially especially really don't like: bugs, Best Buy, my ex-roommate (the crazy one, not the cool one..), the tastes/smells of curry, coconut and pecans, you-know-who and, obviously, rain.

I hate the rain. I don't know what it is with New Yorkers, but everyones' IQ drops 50 points the minute it starts to rain and they have to open an umbrella. There are several offenders: 1) The one who holds the umbrella down over their eyes, so they virtually have NO idea of what they're doing, walking wise. So they veer all over the sidewalk and run into people. And don't seem to understand that looking where you're going is not an overrated pasttime. It's kinda like baseball and stamp collecting, it will never go out of style. 2) Mr. "My umbrella is bigger than god. And you will get out of its way." These guys with the huge umbrellas who inevitably knock into yours. And the umbrellas always seem to cling to eachother for a second, but of course you're still moving in a forwards directions, so for a brief second, you are sans coverage. Not fun when it's a torrential downpour. 3) Those who don't realize that when you're walking in a narrowed two-way area, you tilt your umbrella slightly to the outside so you don't continuously bump umbrellas with people coming in the other direction. You might get a tiny bit wet, but you're not going to melt, lambs. And this is especially true for when you're walking under scaffolding. You don't need them there people, it's a covered walk way. If it continues for at least half a block, close the umbrella. Arrg!

The trains freak out at this time, too. Everything runs slower and is like 5x as crowded. So I take my usual N or Q to 42nd street to switch to the 2/3. My shoe is, as usual, untied during my connection. Maybe I step into some sort of vortex at Times Square. It is a weird place. I hurry and run by the mime. Dumb thing. Now there's the Aztec players who consist of a whole bunch of Mexican guys playing these Pan-type flutes. They're not any good though. I want my singing hobos :( And everybody and his mother is waiting for the 2/3... great. I take the 3rd train that came, it was so packed I just let two board without me. Well, one I let go because I saw my company's CEO get on it and the last thing I want is to be shoved nose to nose with with woman on a 30 minute train ride.

I board my train, burrowing my way to the middle and am standing over a guy with a Yankee hat. Cool, yay, go Yankees. But he still has the tags on it. I wonder if he notices... Or is that the style now? Oh goodness. What's next? Not even taking our accessories out of their packaging? So we'll wear shoes but still have boxes on the feet? If that's the case, then the hobo that threw a hot dog at me on Wednesday is way before his time...

Oh great my train is going local now. Grrr. More people board and I'm standing there, squished among about 10 other people. Of course it is at this point that iPod begins playing the stupid stuff.. I had it turned really high because I was listening to Albinoni's Adagio which is the friggin quietest piece of music ever written. So the song that came on after was really loud. Ok don't ask why I have this, but the song was Europe-The Final Countdown. Don't be hatin, you probably have it too. So now it's playing, LOUD and I know people could hear it and are looking at the bespectacled girl in the pink peacoat, carrying a copy of Count of Monte Cristo, listening to that song... Yeah...

So at 86th Man-With-Tag and his blinged out companion get out and I take his seat. Now you have to undersand the configurating of the 3 trains in New York City. There are just long rows of seats up against each side, so you're looking at the people sitting across from you. And while it's technically one long seat, there are slight bumps to indicate the partition between seats. And I'm sure the intention with this would be One Butt, One Seat. However in our world of yummy Olive Garden breadsticks, many times people take up more than one seat. And sometimes, like Man-With-Tag, the cool people take up more than one just to sit and bask. And we let them, because they're cool. So long story short, there are now 4 empty seats right in a row.

So I take the second from the left and McTush comes on the train and takes the one on the right, but is spilling into the empty seat next to me. No problem. But at 96th street.... here comes KFC4eva. Eyes the fully empty seat to the other side of me... Oh no. Don't do it. Don't do it! Damn.So I'm shoved inbetween McTush and KFC4eva, really having problems trying to breathe. And I'd been shimmied a little to the middle so now I'm sitting on one of those humped partitions which is NOT as much fun as it sounds. Cmon people. Know your limits. I'm not trying to act like I'm all skinny supermodel, but I am smart enough not to try to shove my size 8 butt into one of those little swings at the playground. (you know, the one with the leg holes?) And now I've come to the realization that additional to striving to never eat fast food again, I have no idea where my umbrella went. Damn