As you are probably unaware, The Pumpkin is in the process of relocating to New York City. As such, I am (obviously) looking for apartments for us to share. So I headed out to Queens last night to check out a posting I found on Craigslist.
That was entirely uneventful, the place was cool – it was the trip back to Brooklyn that totally threw me.
Episode 3: Just Crazy-Ass Shit for No Good Reason -or- The Pantsless Yeti
The property was located just off the R train in Queens. It was the weekend, which means the subway was totally fucked. I transfered from the R to the 4,5 at 59th Street. And then the shitstorm began. At the second stop, a woman fell on the tracks and was run over. I have no clue as to her state of health because as soon as this was announced the platform was flooded. The conductor announces that the train will not be going anywhere, anytime soon. I (full of anger at the inconvenience this woman and her likely death have caused me, because I’m sensitive like that.) transfer BACK to the R, which runs to Atlantic-Pacific so I can transfer back to the 4,5 in Brooklyn. It should be mentioned that I could have taken the Q, which is an express train that would have cut travel time in half, BUT IT WASN’T RUNNING, because it was the f*cking weekend.
I’m a little shaken, and am looking forward to (hoping for) a nice quiet ride. I arrive at Atlantic-Pacific and transfer platforms.
But there was no rest nor respite for me on this night. Because yesterday was the Pantsless Subway Ride. There was a tall (6′ 3″), gangly man walking around the platform in what appeared to be white briefs that had been in the wash with a red sock. They were faded pink. Did I mention he was super hairy? Because he was. He was speaking with everyone on the platform because in this neighborhood people will not hesitate to speak to you if you look entertaining. He ends up in the same car as me, I’m standing against the doors on one side of the train, he on the other.
At the next stop, a blind homeless man gets on, walking right past the Pantsless Yeti. He does his spiel and begins accepting donations. As the train pulls into my stop, he overhears someone referencing crackheads and believes them to be talking about him. He immediately engages, defending his honor and proclaiming “trust me, I ain’t no crackhead, crackheads smell. I clean myself.” The accused shouts out “I wasn’t even talkin’ ’bout you!” as I step off the train.
When I get above ground, I decide I want a sandwich from the bodega on the corner. The man inside greets me with a smile – I’m a regular. While he’s fixing my sandwich a group of young hoodlums (ruffians? skids? hooligans?) come in. They’re obviously not from the area because they’re pissed about the cost of the items in the store. They’re swearing and yelling, so Store Man takes a minutes to get them out of the store. He admonishes them for swearing in front of a lady, to which there is a chorus consisting of the following phrases:
“She can suck my dick.”
“I don’t give a FUCK.”
“Ol’ ugly ass…”
Thanks, Store Man, for trying, but also for dragging me into this shit. Thanks.
So after that I dragged myself inside, stuffed my face and fell asleep watching My Fair Wedding. I should buy a few cats.