Like you need that much space...

Dear Men On The Subway,

I can't understand why you sit with your legs open wide enough for a semi to drive through. Your junk cannot be THAT big. Come on. I don't believe it and neither do you, if you're honest with yourself. Now, I'm willing to accept that it isn't as comfortable for you to have your legs together as it is for me, but that doesn't mean that you can take up two seats (one for you and one for your junk).

How many more times are you going to make me sit on the edge of my seat so your leg doesn't rub against mine? It's rude. I don't take up any extra space and you shouldn't either. It's just getting stupid now.

And don't think I didn't notice you too, Boys On The Subway. Just because you're small and sort of cute (sometimes) I'm not going to cut you any slack. You're learning it from your fathers and brothers and you shouldn't be.

This has become problematic.

Seriously perturbed,

BB

P.S. I leave you humming "Don't Fence Me In."

Morning Train

On the train this morning I actually got a seat next to the window, thankfully. I had an old woman sitting beside me and a middle aged woman sitting in front of me.

The old woman leaned on me the whole ride and the middle aged woman kept randomly turning her head to blatantly stare at me.

1. I am not a wall, and therefore, if you wanted to lean on something why didn't you scoot all the way in and lean against the window? This would have allowed me the outside seat and you NOT leaning on me.

2. I had nothing on my face, so why did you think it necessary to stare at me? Did you think, perhaps, that I couldn't see you staring? You were less than 2 feet away from me.

I leave you humming "Stuck in the Middle with You."

Morning Train

It was a very ordinary morning with a pretty ordinary train ride.

I waited for the train. When it came I sat down (actually getting a seat, which is sometimes un-ordinary). I listened to one of the mixes my Dad made for me, all the while wondering what Ian Anderson meant by "Locomotive Breath." I casually checked my own breath to remind myself if I brushed. No worries, I had. I balanced the cupcake holder on my lap, trying to keep it even and realized for the first time that my thighs slope downward. Keeping them even is an impossible task.

I looked across the way and saw a guy and girl casually talking. Without hearing them I relied on body language to decipher their conversation.

Guy: I really like you and think we could have a lot in common if we saw each other more often.
Girl: Yeah, I don't know you well enough to let our bodies touch on this crowded train.
Guy: That's ok, I'll just look down at your beautiful/artificially tanned face.
(Another guy gets up from further down the car and sits beside her. Mind you, he's carrying a backpack and a bright pink purse.)
Girl: (taking the purse from Guy 2) Tall, Greek, overly tanned, godlike boyfriend this is average, slightly pudgy, overly hairy acquaintance.
Guy 2: (gives Guy the head nod) I'm hot and so is my girlfriend.
Guy: You're right, I don't stand a chance. So, for the next 20 minutes I'm going to make jokes and tell stories that will force you to give me pity laughs.

I arrived at 42nd street with time to spare and walked slowly out of the car and up the stairs. I left the awkward trio on the train still wondering how bad "Locomotive Breath" could possibly be.

I leave you humming Jethro Tull's "Locomotive Breath." I'm hoping someone can help me out with the meaning of this one.

Why does this keep happening to me?

This morning, again I'm riding the train downtown to work. Like always I'm trying to mind my own business. Today, the best way to do this is to listen to "Locomotive Breath" while reading a book. So, at 125th St. a woman gets on the train and starts preaching. Now don't get me wrong, I'm a very faithful person but I don't want to hear that on the morning train. Seriously, every other word out of her mouth was the word "God." How does she expect to connect with anyone that way? Because she got on at 125th we had the....pleasure.....of listening to her until the stop at 59th. It's the only disadvantage of the express train.

On top of that, I'm sitting directly behind someone with a huge hood. Her hood was taking up not only her half, but my half of head room that space allots. It was brushing up against my head the entire trip downtown. I hate that, you just want to reach back behind you and hit it.

Please people; be conscious of your winter coats. Also, the morning train probably isn't the best place to open people's minds and hearts to the Lord. My heart doesn't exist until 10:00 AM.

I leave you humming "Why God?"

Can't you just be quiet?

This morning I was sitting on the train on my way downtown to work. It's a Monday morning, I'm grumpy and I'm not really looking forward to work. I actually get a seat, which is remarkable. I'm sitting there trying to listen to my music, but not blowing out my eardrums. I don't really want to be deaf by the time I'm 40, so I keep my MP3 player at a moderate volume. So, I'm sitting there trying to enjoy "Heart to Hart" from 9 to 5 and my luck runs out.

I hear someone singing "Stand by Me" on my car. Very loudly and it's getting louder by the second. That's when I realize it's horribly out of tune and my ears start bleeding. Well, maybe they don't bleed, but they want to. I realize as he gets closer to me he's holding out a ball cap for money. He's asking us to pay him for that crap??

Unfortunately, he stops in front of my group of seats and finishes the song. He goes into his speech, saying how "he's sorry if he's bothering anyone" claiming he's using his "God given talent" to make some money.

I wanted to tell him (in this order):

1. Never sing again.
2. You're bothering everyone.
3. If that's a God given talent, I've lost faith in God.
4. The only money you will ever receive is the money people give you to shut up.
5. I have a beautiful voice and you don't hear me singing on the morning train.
6. If you ever sing on my car again I will rip your face off.
7. Have a blessed day.

I didn't, instead I kept my mouth shut. I turned up my MP3 player and prayed he would shut up soon. I used to like that song too. Now, I don't know if I will ever be able to listen to "Stand by Me" without cringing.

I know that something like this has to have happened to you.

I leave you humming "Silence is Golden."