This morning’s commute was without doubt the fucking funniest I’ve had to date, period. Firstly, I get a seat on the C train - talk about winning the lottery.I sat at the left-hand end of a train car, across from the conductor compartment - one of those 2-seater ass buckets, you get my drift. Across from me sat the epitome of OCD… allow my retort… homeless (evidently presented due to the scruffy attire, 3 bags full of torn-off-posters and other oddities) and fucking nuts - the guy goes into this entire “god loves his children” shit reading off the back off some MTA (no C train this weekend) flyers that he’d written his speeches on - so loud I could hear him through my own blaring music, and my Er6i’s. Mesmerized by this, I couldn’t help but watch him delve deep into his multiple bags and pull out 2 different pairs of sunglasses and 4 different hats. All of them were worn, and in an array of presentation, as if one were in Sunglasses & Hat Hut checking out the latest fashions. Jesus, I live in a fucking nut house.

I think I was about as far as Jay Street, and out of my periphery I sense a “shape” moving toward me.

[tangent]

If you’ve ridden the New York City subway, you’ll know that a 2-seater doesn’t actually sit 2 people - especially when one of the parties is, how should I put it, fat.

[back on topic]

Here she comes - has to be about 250lbs - ass - that’s all I saw - her ass, eye-level with me, moving my way. She SQUEEZES in next to me, squashing my winter coat, smushing it against my body, creating folds against both me and the seat I was sat on. First thought was, of course, “for fuck’s sake, what the fuck are you doing!”, yet I remained mute. She “sits”, and tries to hook her left leg over her right, to allow her more room to occupy the seat she took, and it just doesn’t work - her leg sliding off, twice. Here’s the funny part… she stands up - well, pulls herself out of the seat, stands up, turns around and looks at me and gives me the dirtiest look ever! Like it’s my fault her arse is bigger than a fucking television. Awesome, ironic, idiocy.

So the office was nuts as usual - the coworker with the farting problem is back on top form - big time, which brings forth hilarity, not a bad thing - I swear though, if I ever smell one of those pant cabbages, I will have to lose my shit entirely.

I’m surfing the net as I usually do, and I come across the coolest thing I’ve seen in a LOOOOONG time - a wedding, a video, Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” playing… you know what comes next… yes, YES, the bloody entire wedding group do the Thriller dance, and it just brings my day back to some level of normality, and all is good in the world.

God I love this City, I do - I really do.