#44

Friday night I was pretty impressively drunk and did not have a pen, nor pencil in my bag to entertain my thoughts while waiting for the long-overdue G train, and trying to avoid a strange Indian man who was hitting on me at the station. Not even an eyeliner pencil or eyebrow pencil (I don't use those) or a crayon or half dissolved Ricola. All I had on me, in terms of a pointed, inked tip, was a purple liquid liner which, in the hands of a drunk, didn't do anything too wonderful. Besides, it wasn't staying very well-inked.

I have no idea what I was writing...it seems to read..."such a fucking ________, it's like 5am and ________ for the G in Bklyn." You know....depending on what that first blank is, you could read anything into my experience in Brooklyn. "waste" "wait" "night" "tool" who knows? no one cares. not even me. nom nom.

The hangover is just now hitting me now at 7 freaking PM. Actually, I don't know if it's the hangover, or the lack of sleep. 2 hours of sleep followed by 10 hours of work, but preceded by 6.5 hours of drinking, falling, being utterly ridiculous, laughing, etc. = tired girl.

Once again, I've forgotten a freaking pen, but at least now my phone is charged so I can just type shit into that. But, of course, now I don't recall why I wanted to continue this entry. Anyway. Oh, let's go back to my sleep habits, shall we?

No...no...wait, an actual subway THING happened in the middle of that sentence...a 2 train pulled in on the local track. Expecting this, I huddled close to where the doors would be so that I could get on, get a seat, be happy. But the crowd was taking forEVER and this one man had decided (obviously) to piss me off by advancing in my direction instead of using the right-hand side, like all the other silly Americans. dammit. So there I was, perched for a flying leap into the bench closest to me. It had emptied, and the end was available so I was gonna be real happy.

He finally moved, I bounded to the seat, slipped into the corner spot. done. I love the corner seat on any of the benches because then i've got control over the end of the bench. I'm not trying to squeeze my voluminous hips in between skinny bitches or other fat women. A couple who entered from the other doors also saw the opportune bench and decided to also run for the corner. Unfortunately for them, I'm much more limber and much more spry than I look (seriously, though. have you ever seen me run or do a split? no? then shut up!) Now, even after I sat down, there was plenty of room for them. You could fit the two of them, twice. But that's not what they wanted. They wanted a corner dammmit and they were none too happy that I'd taken it. Bitch looked like she was gonna slug me.

So they made a leap for the bench caddycorner to mine, just in time to see a skinny little boy slip slyly into the spot they wanted. None too happy. They then took the seats next to the boy and were subsequently squished by other riders, whereas the man who sat next to me is now pleasantly situated between space and space. Like choosing a 2BR when all you need is a studio. yes.