As I said before, this will be an ongoing train of thought. One that delves into my very own personal demons. The things that haunt me. Actually, to put it bluntly, this ongoing series will be about stuff that I hate. And you probably all hate it too. I would hope so… or I’d have to hate you too.
First off, I hate it when you’re on the subway* (for people not from NYC or some other mecca of skyscrapers and metropolitan wasteland, the train) and you’re trying to relax a bit or just speaking like civilized beings to your significant other, friends and/ or family and some asshole decides its time to show his inner Keith Moon and decide to start drumming with his fingers on the seat. Or on the window. Or better yet, on a tin can or some sort of percussion instrument that they seem to always have on them at all times.
Look, it’s not that I don’t like music. When I travel around the city and see people playing on trash cans or using milk crates or anything else that’s around, I tend to give them money, especially if they’re talented. But I’m talking about Joe Schmo who now realizes that his calling is to become the newest member of the hit off-Broadway show Stomp.
Take for example the other day. My girlfriend and I had a long weekend of watching her family’s dog in Long Island, so that was already strikes 1 to 17. I love the dog to death, but it’s a weird thing to ask people who live about 2 and a half hours away and don’t drive (living in the city, you don’t have to) to come there to watch the poor little thing. But hell, we’re good people so we decide to make the best of it and use it as a time away from the craziness we’ve been going through.
On the way home, on the train, this guy sits to the side of us in one of the two seaters and decides to start playing music with his Metro Card. I mean, I know the fare might be going up and people are showing their disdain for that sort of thing, but this guy wasn’t doing that. He was just oblivious to the world and saw me there and chose to annoy the hell out of me for about 35 minutes on a otherwise quiet train. It’s very rare where I can just sort of relax on a train. I survey my area at all times, but it was starting to bug me to the point where I was about to go say something to the guy, but my better half knows how I am and told me it wasn’t the end of the world and to let it go.
She made a good point though. When he left the train finally, she said, “People like that just need a DS or something hand held to keep them occupied.”
I say breaking his fingers one by one would be a good thing to keep him occupied. It might not be his cup of tea, but I know playing the Metro Card as some sort of new folk instrument isn’t mine either.
Yes, I’m an angry young man. This is nothing compared to other things that I loathe. Soon my good people, soon.
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