I'm listening to Silversun Pickups on the N train home my blogging
class. I would have biked home, its a beautiful night, but I seemed to
strain an abdominal muscle last week and nicely aggrevated it at the
gym on Sunday, so I won't push it...at least not until my two softball
games at the end of the week.
The train is a bit empty now...it's 10PM. Ther girl down at the
other end of my bench seat has a tattoo on the back of her neck. I
don't mess with neck tats. Neck tats always trump arm tats. I think
the order, from most to least hardcore is face, neck, arm, back, leg.
The guy across from her has no distraction devices... No iPod, no
book, no nothing. He's just sitting there, looking around, reading
subway ads. Nineteen people in this car... Six have iPods.
Apparently, market penetration is like 30 percent, so we're a pretty
average bunch.
I hate typing on this Treo. My thumbs keep bumping into each
other. Pacific Street. One iPod on, one iPod off. Equillibrium is
maintained. I wonder where everyone gets their music. The girl across
from me has abandoned her SAT Test Prep book for a paperback of
"Starter Wife". For some reason, it's got Deborah Messing on the
cover. Is this a movie coming out? This N train is a fancy new
one...with easy to read electronic displays of the wrong station coming
up next. 36 Street. Dragula by Rob Zombie. I thought of naming my
car Dragula, but what's really the point of a car name other than to...
Ok, speaking of idiocy, the guy over in the next car just walked off
the train with his bike and just biked down to the end of the platform.
A subway platform is like the last place I'd bike around. That's got
all sorts of dangerous written all over it. It is freezing in this
car. I seem to be sitting right under a vent. Getting up... Train
traffic ahead of us...at this
time?? Liars...unless it's the money train or the garbage
train. Switching at 59th Street....Depeche Mode...World in My Eyes.
If I had a hernia, it would be a big painful protrusion, right? I
wouldn't be able to stand up straight, right? On the R train. I don't
envy suit wearers.