I received news of the blizzard while I was with my amigos, Christmas night at a bar where the bartender clearly did not want to be there. After I arrived home in one piece around 4am with margaritas and Mamoun's shwarma with tabouleh quagulating in my stomach, I starting watching movies on Cuevana until 7am. I fell asleep and woke up to facebook status updates of "how pretty the snow looks."
Soon as the day wore on, the status updates changed from "how pretty the snow looks" to, "it is so ugly outside." I realized that some intense shoveling needs to be done and thought maybe my dad would do it if he realizes that no one is home. So I did my best to hide under my blanket, in my room but my warmth was short lived as my dad phoned me from the basement. I shall never forget the words that were uttered from his mouth. "GO SHOVEL," he said. My only response was to remind him that it is still snowing outside and there is no point in me shoveling when it will be all snowed in again. He did not care for this simple logic, he fired back "if you shovel now, you'll have less to shovel later." I realized, crazy man does kind of make sense, so I set out to shovel.
Shoveling wasn't bad, the snow was extremely soft. It's the speed of the snow flakes being blown by the strong wind that felt like needles pricking my face hurt the most. I decided it was time to go inside when I realized I might be able to get some sympathy dinner money for shoveling snow outside while it is snowing. My plan worked "fo' sho'" and soon I was in grease heaven.
My joy was short-lived when I decided to step outside my house the next morning. I was suppose to be at Ms. Lambert's, feeding Jenny her lunch. I woke up late and got ready and hope my dad shoveled some sort of walkway, at least big enough to put one foot in front of the other. As I see the amount of snow that has piled up in front of the storm door that I realize the jerk has escaped to work leaving me with all this snow to shovel. I decide it is best to call Samy and tell her I will most likely spend the entire day shoveling, therefore Jenny must starve. Since the dog doesn't eat much anyway she said she will feed her after and I went back inside to prepare for my shoveling expedition.
I already got a call from my mother reminding me to clean her car, the response in my head went sometime like "woman, yoose crazy, you are stuck upstate, you ain't here, no ones drivin', I ain't cleanin." But I thought it was best as her oldest and the most favorite daughter to assure her that her car will be cleaned, so I said "yea yea, sure sure."
I put on my super thick double-sided gloves, brightly colored hats and socks which I purchased from Peru, and pushed all the snow and opened the door to a bright day with snow mobiles going on all around me. I looked to the left where my dad always parks his car and find it empty. I curse my mis-fortune of not being adopted since I figured I were, by now I would have been reunited with my birth parents and residing in somewhere sunny where only flakes they know of are the ones that are from instant mashed potato boxes.
The snow is so heavy that it was extremely difficult to figure out where the steps were, so I carefully half climb down and half slide to the sidewalk. Upon my arrival, I try to think where is our shovel, since the last one was stolen by my dad's construction workers. I decide maybe I can borrow one from a neighbor, to my surprise I see my dad behind his car. I'm not quiet sure what he was doing there and I did not care. I screamed "where's the shovel?" since he is half deaf.
Instead of walking over and inquiring about my plan how I will conquer all this snow, he simply throws the shovel at me which lands on the snow. I pick it up and get to work. It didn't take me that long to realize that my dad's car is stuck and he cannot get to work. Since he is not a very patient man, he kept coming towards the house and going towards his car, perhaps hoping his restless pacing will make the car start. I am not going to lie, he did help me with the snow. He might have done thirty seconds worth of shoveling in total with one glove in hand. Yes, you read correctly, he was wearing one glove, ONE. When I asked him where is his second glove, he merely dismissed me. When I asked him again, he said it fell somewhere in the snow. He didn't even take me up on my offer of me giving him my gloves. I figured him wearing one glove probably has some sort of self-sacrifice relating to Bill Gates or Gandhi, so I left him be.
During the time when I was shoveling, he went inside the house and kept popping in and out like a Meerkat. At one time he came out with cake crumbs smeared all over his face with a half eaten cake pointed at me. This was his way of giving me my lunch break. We made small talk. He kept on reminding me that this must "hoarlds biggest snow". I rolled my eyes and continued shoveling. The times he came out, I kept on telling him to get the salt from the garage and he kept on telling me that it's impossible to get to the garage. I thought, perhaps he kept coming back to check up on me to see if I am okay. But my hopes for his endearment failed miserably when all he did was stare at his car, finding ways to see if it will budge so he can escape to his heaven, his practice.
He did once get really excited, I thought perhaps his happiness had to do with me doing such a great job at shoveling. After all, my shoveling looked just as great as my neighbor who was using a snow blower. I was wrong, he was excited because he saw a car that came to our block and was able to drive through it. He excitedly asked me "how did that car do that? How did it go through?" I gave him the only logical answer he did not want to hear, "that car doesn't have crappy tires like your car." This shut him up and made him realize that his car is stuck for good and he went back inside and didn't come out for a while.
As I was putting my back into it, breaking the snow that has been packed under by many footsteps, a car gets stuck. I decided to go in and let my dad know that because of his car, cars are getting stuck.
What I saw from the top of the steps of the basement, I shall never forget. There he was, in a nice, warm and cozy basement, in his lungi, bare-chested, watching Ntv. While my feet was borderline numb and my cheeks so cold and red that it would have cut from the cold. He did not even bother to come up as he told me "tell them you don't know who the car belongs to."
My mind was elsewhere when I noticed a handsome group of Mexicans walking past. They did give me a nice icy stare before continuing on to their journey of seeing if anyone wanted them to shovel. I finally realized that they saw my brightly colored South American gear, my hat with "Cusco" written all over it and realized, "this one got to this house before we did. Vamenos amigos." I realized perhaps maybe my fate would have some luck like Kate Dawson's, perhaps if I quietly say "come back, come back", they might just feel sorry enough for me to come back. But my attempts were futile.
I could have dropped an F bomb and went back in, but my stubborness of finishing a task got the best of me. It's when snot started coming out of my nose I decided to start my journey to the garage and get some salt. I climbed the massive thigh high pile of snow to the garage, tripping in every step possible due the junk on the floor the snow has covered. I brushed the snow off and found the handle, got the bucket of snow and saw that there isn't much snow on the driveway, since mother nature's wind blew all our snow towards our neighbors driveway.
Once again, my happiness was short lived as I find the gate locked. My only other option was to climb the snow and make my way towards the front of the house. I did so in one piece, put some salt on the rest of the snow mah's, got a 20.00 from my dad, got me some amazing chicke and rice&beans courtesy of "Golden Chicken", and ate it while catching up on "It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia."
The next day, I couldn't get up because my back was hurting.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Normal train rides are obsolete...
So this time I make sure I don't get on the E train from West 4th street! I'm on the F, got a super long way to go. After a while I was resting my head on my hands and had my eyes closed, I was fully aware of where I was going.
The train approaches at my stop, which is the last stop. There's this old, fat guy standing in the middle and looking at me. I ignored him and walked away from him towards to door and was waiting for it to open. He comes next to me and asks.....and one again, this will be dialouges. I'll be "Hot Girl" literally and figuratively.
Fat Perv: (walks over to the door where I am planning on exiting and says) I had to make sure you weren't sleeping because you know people fall asleep and don't wake up for their stop.
Hot Girl: Okay, yea thanks. I was awake. I was just resting my head.
Fat Perv: Yea because you know, people fall asleep and I wanted to make sure you weren't sleeping.
Hot Girl: Okay thanks, well the stop is here and i'm awake so i'm good.
Fat Perv: Where are you from? Are you from Guyana?
Hot Girl: (resists the urge to knock all of his back teeth out since all his front teeth were missing.) No, i'm from Bangladesh.
Fat Perv: (train doors open, we both walk out) Oh really. My name is John Doe
(I forgot his name and he extends his hand for a hand shake.)
Hot Girl: (shakes his hand but sees he is not letting go so forces it out.)
Fat Perv: (walks next to me) are you looking for a job?
Hot Girl: ummmm, not thank you. I already got a job.
Fat Perv: (BLOCKS MY EXIT) okay if you need a job or if you know students in your school that needs a job, have them call me. I work at such and such agency. They can work from home. My office is right by the Bangladesh embassy. Have you ever been there?
Hot Girl: Yea, I think so. I know where it is i'll find it.
Fat Perv: (still blocking my exit) okay hold on, let me give you my card. (cannot find his card so he rips up a piece of newspaper and finally finds a pen. Writes down his company name, address, phone number and suite number.)
Hot Girl: Okay thanks, starts taking the stairs.
Fat Perv: My name is Fat Perv.
Hot Girl: Okay, nice to meet you. Goodnight!
Fat Perv: You'll remember? you'll remember right! Don't forget.
Hot Girl: I promise I won't. I'll tattoo it on my ass and read it every day using a mirror!
The train approaches at my stop, which is the last stop. There's this old, fat guy standing in the middle and looking at me. I ignored him and walked away from him towards to door and was waiting for it to open. He comes next to me and asks.....and one again, this will be dialouges. I'll be "Hot Girl" literally and figuratively.
Fat Perv: (walks over to the door where I am planning on exiting and says) I had to make sure you weren't sleeping because you know people fall asleep and don't wake up for their stop.
Hot Girl: Okay, yea thanks. I was awake. I was just resting my head.
Fat Perv: Yea because you know, people fall asleep and I wanted to make sure you weren't sleeping.
Hot Girl: Okay thanks, well the stop is here and i'm awake so i'm good.
Fat Perv: Where are you from? Are you from Guyana?
Hot Girl: (resists the urge to knock all of his back teeth out since all his front teeth were missing.) No, i'm from Bangladesh.
Fat Perv: (train doors open, we both walk out) Oh really. My name is John Doe
(I forgot his name and he extends his hand for a hand shake.)
Hot Girl: (shakes his hand but sees he is not letting go so forces it out.)
Fat Perv: (walks next to me) are you looking for a job?
Hot Girl: ummmm, not thank you. I already got a job.
Fat Perv: (BLOCKS MY EXIT) okay if you need a job or if you know students in your school that needs a job, have them call me. I work at such and such agency. They can work from home. My office is right by the Bangladesh embassy. Have you ever been there?
Hot Girl: Yea, I think so. I know where it is i'll find it.
Fat Perv: (still blocking my exit) okay hold on, let me give you my card. (cannot find his card so he rips up a piece of newspaper and finally finds a pen. Writes down his company name, address, phone number and suite number.)
Hot Girl: Okay thanks, starts taking the stairs.
Fat Perv: My name is Fat Perv.
Hot Girl: Okay, nice to meet you. Goodnight!
Fat Perv: You'll remember? you'll remember right! Don't forget.
Hot Girl: I promise I won't. I'll tattoo it on my ass and read it every day using a mirror!
Monday, June 21, 2010
aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrghhhh!!!
YOU MOTHER MEGAFETE HACKING MAH'FAKAS, I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN ONE BY ONE AND SLOWLY TORTURE YOU TO DEATH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! for the hell you have put me through! DOOM ON YOU!
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Crazy chic scared the sh*t out of me!
hello readers,
yesterday after hanging out a little too late than I planned, I got on the train on West 4th street to take the F straight home. When I looked at the time, it was 1:45 ish am. The train took forever to come. When it did, it was the E train on the F,V line. I assumed that it was the E running on the F line as it sometimes does on late nights and got on it. I forgot to check to make sure that the last stop is 179th place and not Jamaica center. So I got on it and did what I always do best, FELL ASLEEP! I also fell asleep since I did not sleep a wink the night before. My arm for whatever reason was hurting like a mother.... and I was extremely lazy to take an Advil, not that it would have worked.
I woke up to find the train passing Queensborough Plaza. I was super pissed because I really thought the train would have been in at least Roosevelt Avenue by then. I, of course went back to sleep and woke up to find out the E train was going towards Jamaica Center. In order for me to go home, I would have to take the E towards Manhattan and get off on a stop where I can transfer to the F going towards 179th street.
I decided to get off on the next stop since I only had to take it one station up in order to transfer. The train took FOREVER to get to the next stop. Who knows why since it was super late at night. Oh did I mention that all through out my train ride and even before I got on the train, I had to pee like it was nobodies bidness'!!
Finally the train comes to that stop and I stand on the opposite end waiting for the E Manhattan bound. But of course the train takes forever to come. Also, I think there was like less than five people on the platform, three of them being homeless and two out of those three were knocked out on the bench. Finally the train comes but it's going towards the last stop which is three stops away. I get so impatient and annoyed that I decided to take the next train to the last stop and wait for it to head back towards Manhattan.
Thank God, the train didn't wait too long to head back out again. I get on it after debating that it will indeed take me towards Manhattan. Just to make sure, I ask this young Asian girl who is sitting next to a senior citizen if it's heading back towards the city and she asks me to sit next to her.
The next chapter will be in dialouges as it is the best way for me to write it. CA is short for Crazy Asian.
Me: Excuse me, but do you know if this train is heading back out towards Manhattan?
Crazy Asian: oh, um, hi, (shakes my hand) could you please like sit next to me?
Me: (thinking: okay maybe she's scared since it's very late and wants some company and maybe the old guy next to her is creeping her out) sure. (I say.)
CA: Hey, do you have pen and paper?
Me: Yes, I do (I had a pile of resume which I printed from work. I take out the resume and immediately she sticks her hand out for a pen, which I give to her as well.)
CA: Could you like write down your name, address, phone number and email on this paper?
Me: ummmm why?
(At this point the crazy Asian turns the paper over and sees that it's my resume and i'm scared shitless because it has my name, address, telephone number on it. I also think maybe she wants to sell me something. Few years back this girl asked me for my phone number because she said her company was hiring. Later I found out that it was one of those pyramid schemes. I thought maybe she needs it for her pyramid scheme.)
CA: Oh, because i'm like lost and stuff, can you help me? Do you believe in God? Are you a Christian?
Me: (nope, NOT a pyramid scheme but a psycho) no, i'm not Christian.
CA: Oh, what are you then?
Me: I'm Muslim.
CA: (looks a bit disappointed) okay well can you still write down your name, address, phone number and your facebook info.
Me: I can give you my name and email.
CA: What about facebook?
Me: I don't have facebook.
CA: What about your cell phone number?
Me: I'm in the process of getting a new phone and don't have a number. But i'm offering my email.
intermission: If you're pondering why I didn't just go to a next cart, it was because I was scared to leave. I didn't know what this girl was on, but I didn't want to push any buttons by leaving and have her run after me with a knife. Also, I had some sane people on the train so I felt a little safe and realized if i'm really in trouble, than they'll help me. They were just minding their own business. I'm also terrified of switiching carts because I always think i'll fall. I was also getting off at the next stop so I decided to tough it out.
Also, she didn't look psycho when I first saw her. She had her hair dyed blonde, had a bunch of piercings, looked clean and was wearing clean clothes.
CA: okay well here write down your info.
Me: (as I write down my email and name she asks me again about my cell phone number and again I tell her that I don't have one. After I'm done writing my number, I tear the piece out)
CA: (screams) WAIT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THERE'S STUFF WRITTEN IN THE BACK?
Me: (nervously) oh you don't need that big of a paper, it's garbage. Here, I wrote down my email and name.
CA: Are you serious?
Me: (scared shitless) what?
CA: That was your resume? You can't give me your resume?
Me: Sorry, can't give you my resume, but look I gave you my name and email (I proceed to sit across from her instead of next to her)
CA: You can't give me your resume, I need a resume, why won't you give me your resume?
Me: sorry (I take out my book and start reading)
CA: What are you reading?
Me: (I heard, "what are you eating?") I'm not eating anything.
CA: You can't give me your resume, I don't have a resume. I need a job. I won't copy it, I promise.
Me: Okay, i'll give you my resume, but i'm going to tear the top apart.
CA: Okay, that's great, thank you so much
Me: (i'm in the process of taking out another resume and ripping out the top where I have all my personal info.)
CA: (screams) Do you have a boyfriend?
Me: no
CA: What's your sign? I'll tell you your horroscope? When is your birthday?
Me: September 2nd.
CA: What year?
Me: 1894
CA: So you're a...
Me: Virgo (finally ripped out the top bit of my resume and hand it to her)
CA: (looks over my resume) shit you used to work at Key Food?
Me: Yea, years ago.
CA: Are they hiring? Do you know if they are hiring?
Me: I guess so, I don't know.
CA: How do I get there?
Me: Take the 2 or the 5 to the last stop Brooklyn bound
CA: okay so I have to transfer in Union Square.
Me: Yes.
CA: How do I get there?
Me: I don't know, you can ask someone where the Key Food is once you get out.
CA: Okay how do I get there? Do they have a phone number?
Me: I don't know, I worked there years ago. Just go and ask. And you take the 2 or the 5 to the last stop.
CA: Oh okay so I take the 6 uptown?
Me: YES
CA: How long like how long will it take me to get there from Flushing?
Me: I don't know, two hours I guess. Why don't you go and apply in the city.
CA: NO! I need to work at Key Food, i'm going to go there tomorrow.
Me: (relieved that it's my stop) okay good luck, bye.
I get off the train and go upstairs to transfer to the F. Turns out that in order for me to do so, I have to exit and pay another fair and enter on the Queens bound side. The only way I don't have to pay a fair is if I take the next Manhattan bound E,F train, go to the next stop where I can cross over without paying.
I hold back my tears and my pee and go downstairs and pace around. There is absolutely NO ONE! not even a soul on that platform. I swear as i'm looking deep into the tunnel and trying to conjure all my superheroine powers to call a train, I see a black shadow shaped like a man emerge from the dark tunnel and disappear into the next track. I decide to stop looking and sit down and continue reading my book. Since I have trouble sitting still, I get back up and look to see if I can conjure up a train again. All of a sudden, this elderly man comes from one end of the track and goes towards another end of a track. At this point, I'm over being scared and just want to go home and pee!
Finally the train comes, I get off on the next stop and wait for the F train. A few minutes later this young, blonde girl wearing a pink short skirt comes down and waits a few steps ahead of me. (Disclaimer: the following sounds aweful, but you'll understand if you ever go through what I went through.) While she was waiting and there was a homeless guy with a huge garbage bag waiting a few steps away from me, I started to think "okay, if they want to get someone, they'll probably get her first, because she's wearing a short skirt. My cleavage is covered and i'm only showing a quater of my legs so I should be fine.)
All of a sudden, I look and she's not there anymore. I know I would have heard her going upstairs. She couldn't have taken another exit as there was no other exit in front of her. Finally I see an MTA employee with a vest and get some form of relief. The train comes, I get on it, get to my stop. I get upstairs and almost kiss the ground.
As i'm walking towards my bus stop, I relized I can't take the bus. I've been underground for so long that my transfer expired. I only have fifty cents on my card and will have to put in money in order to take the bus. I refuse to go back down into the subway so I decide to man up, hold my pee and walk home. All through out my walk, I was wishing that I was a guy so I could have picked my favorite hydrent and went.
Finally got home! I needed some comfort so I shared my leftover mushroom lasagna with my sister who was up. I stayed up with her for a little bit, told her about the psycho Asian and went to sleep. Oh and I pee'd! Let me tell all you fine readers something here. There is no joy, I mean absolutely no joy than peeing after being forced to hold it for several hours. NOT even your wedding day, not even your first born can bring you so much joy than to finally pee!
Does anyone know how I can change my tittle? I want to change it from "I Heart Brooklyn" so something more meaningful.
yesterday after hanging out a little too late than I planned, I got on the train on West 4th street to take the F straight home. When I looked at the time, it was 1:45 ish am. The train took forever to come. When it did, it was the E train on the F,V line. I assumed that it was the E running on the F line as it sometimes does on late nights and got on it. I forgot to check to make sure that the last stop is 179th place and not Jamaica center. So I got on it and did what I always do best, FELL ASLEEP! I also fell asleep since I did not sleep a wink the night before. My arm for whatever reason was hurting like a mother.... and I was extremely lazy to take an Advil, not that it would have worked.
I woke up to find the train passing Queensborough Plaza. I was super pissed because I really thought the train would have been in at least Roosevelt Avenue by then. I, of course went back to sleep and woke up to find out the E train was going towards Jamaica Center. In order for me to go home, I would have to take the E towards Manhattan and get off on a stop where I can transfer to the F going towards 179th street.
I decided to get off on the next stop since I only had to take it one station up in order to transfer. The train took FOREVER to get to the next stop. Who knows why since it was super late at night. Oh did I mention that all through out my train ride and even before I got on the train, I had to pee like it was nobodies bidness'!!
Finally the train comes to that stop and I stand on the opposite end waiting for the E Manhattan bound. But of course the train takes forever to come. Also, I think there was like less than five people on the platform, three of them being homeless and two out of those three were knocked out on the bench. Finally the train comes but it's going towards the last stop which is three stops away. I get so impatient and annoyed that I decided to take the next train to the last stop and wait for it to head back towards Manhattan.
Thank God, the train didn't wait too long to head back out again. I get on it after debating that it will indeed take me towards Manhattan. Just to make sure, I ask this young Asian girl who is sitting next to a senior citizen if it's heading back towards the city and she asks me to sit next to her.
The next chapter will be in dialouges as it is the best way for me to write it. CA is short for Crazy Asian.
Me: Excuse me, but do you know if this train is heading back out towards Manhattan?
Crazy Asian: oh, um, hi, (shakes my hand) could you please like sit next to me?
Me: (thinking: okay maybe she's scared since it's very late and wants some company and maybe the old guy next to her is creeping her out) sure. (I say.)
CA: Hey, do you have pen and paper?
Me: Yes, I do (I had a pile of resume which I printed from work. I take out the resume and immediately she sticks her hand out for a pen, which I give to her as well.)
CA: Could you like write down your name, address, phone number and email on this paper?
Me: ummmm why?
(At this point the crazy Asian turns the paper over and sees that it's my resume and i'm scared shitless because it has my name, address, telephone number on it. I also think maybe she wants to sell me something. Few years back this girl asked me for my phone number because she said her company was hiring. Later I found out that it was one of those pyramid schemes. I thought maybe she needs it for her pyramid scheme.)
CA: Oh, because i'm like lost and stuff, can you help me? Do you believe in God? Are you a Christian?
Me: (nope, NOT a pyramid scheme but a psycho) no, i'm not Christian.
CA: Oh, what are you then?
Me: I'm Muslim.
CA: (looks a bit disappointed) okay well can you still write down your name, address, phone number and your facebook info.
Me: I can give you my name and email.
CA: What about facebook?
Me: I don't have facebook.
CA: What about your cell phone number?
Me: I'm in the process of getting a new phone and don't have a number. But i'm offering my email.
intermission: If you're pondering why I didn't just go to a next cart, it was because I was scared to leave. I didn't know what this girl was on, but I didn't want to push any buttons by leaving and have her run after me with a knife. Also, I had some sane people on the train so I felt a little safe and realized if i'm really in trouble, than they'll help me. They were just minding their own business. I'm also terrified of switiching carts because I always think i'll fall. I was also getting off at the next stop so I decided to tough it out.
Also, she didn't look psycho when I first saw her. She had her hair dyed blonde, had a bunch of piercings, looked clean and was wearing clean clothes.
CA: okay well here write down your info.
Me: (as I write down my email and name she asks me again about my cell phone number and again I tell her that I don't have one. After I'm done writing my number, I tear the piece out)
CA: (screams) WAIT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THERE'S STUFF WRITTEN IN THE BACK?
Me: (nervously) oh you don't need that big of a paper, it's garbage. Here, I wrote down my email and name.
CA: Are you serious?
Me: (scared shitless) what?
CA: That was your resume? You can't give me your resume?
Me: Sorry, can't give you my resume, but look I gave you my name and email (I proceed to sit across from her instead of next to her)
CA: You can't give me your resume, I need a resume, why won't you give me your resume?
Me: sorry (I take out my book and start reading)
CA: What are you reading?
Me: (I heard, "what are you eating?") I'm not eating anything.
CA: You can't give me your resume, I don't have a resume. I need a job. I won't copy it, I promise.
Me: Okay, i'll give you my resume, but i'm going to tear the top apart.
CA: Okay, that's great, thank you so much
Me: (i'm in the process of taking out another resume and ripping out the top where I have all my personal info.)
CA: (screams) Do you have a boyfriend?
Me: no
CA: What's your sign? I'll tell you your horroscope? When is your birthday?
Me: September 2nd.
CA: What year?
Me: 1894
CA: So you're a...
Me: Virgo (finally ripped out the top bit of my resume and hand it to her)
CA: (looks over my resume) shit you used to work at Key Food?
Me: Yea, years ago.
CA: Are they hiring? Do you know if they are hiring?
Me: I guess so, I don't know.
CA: How do I get there?
Me: Take the 2 or the 5 to the last stop Brooklyn bound
CA: okay so I have to transfer in Union Square.
Me: Yes.
CA: How do I get there?
Me: I don't know, you can ask someone where the Key Food is once you get out.
CA: Okay how do I get there? Do they have a phone number?
Me: I don't know, I worked there years ago. Just go and ask. And you take the 2 or the 5 to the last stop.
CA: Oh okay so I take the 6 uptown?
Me: YES
CA: How long like how long will it take me to get there from Flushing?
Me: I don't know, two hours I guess. Why don't you go and apply in the city.
CA: NO! I need to work at Key Food, i'm going to go there tomorrow.
Me: (relieved that it's my stop) okay good luck, bye.
I get off the train and go upstairs to transfer to the F. Turns out that in order for me to do so, I have to exit and pay another fair and enter on the Queens bound side. The only way I don't have to pay a fair is if I take the next Manhattan bound E,F train, go to the next stop where I can cross over without paying.
I hold back my tears and my pee and go downstairs and pace around. There is absolutely NO ONE! not even a soul on that platform. I swear as i'm looking deep into the tunnel and trying to conjure all my superheroine powers to call a train, I see a black shadow shaped like a man emerge from the dark tunnel and disappear into the next track. I decide to stop looking and sit down and continue reading my book. Since I have trouble sitting still, I get back up and look to see if I can conjure up a train again. All of a sudden, this elderly man comes from one end of the track and goes towards another end of a track. At this point, I'm over being scared and just want to go home and pee!
Finally the train comes, I get off on the next stop and wait for the F train. A few minutes later this young, blonde girl wearing a pink short skirt comes down and waits a few steps ahead of me. (Disclaimer: the following sounds aweful, but you'll understand if you ever go through what I went through.) While she was waiting and there was a homeless guy with a huge garbage bag waiting a few steps away from me, I started to think "okay, if they want to get someone, they'll probably get her first, because she's wearing a short skirt. My cleavage is covered and i'm only showing a quater of my legs so I should be fine.)
All of a sudden, I look and she's not there anymore. I know I would have heard her going upstairs. She couldn't have taken another exit as there was no other exit in front of her. Finally I see an MTA employee with a vest and get some form of relief. The train comes, I get on it, get to my stop. I get upstairs and almost kiss the ground.
As i'm walking towards my bus stop, I relized I can't take the bus. I've been underground for so long that my transfer expired. I only have fifty cents on my card and will have to put in money in order to take the bus. I refuse to go back down into the subway so I decide to man up, hold my pee and walk home. All through out my walk, I was wishing that I was a guy so I could have picked my favorite hydrent and went.
Finally got home! I needed some comfort so I shared my leftover mushroom lasagna with my sister who was up. I stayed up with her for a little bit, told her about the psycho Asian and went to sleep. Oh and I pee'd! Let me tell all you fine readers something here. There is no joy, I mean absolutely no joy than peeing after being forced to hold it for several hours. NOT even your wedding day, not even your first born can bring you so much joy than to finally pee!
Does anyone know how I can change my tittle? I want to change it from "I Heart Brooklyn" so something more meaningful.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
what the faaaaaaa.....
Okay so i'm sitting on the train today reading book the 12th of "A Series of Unfortunate events" on my way to work. Sitting next to me is a lady who gets up because it's her stop and a guy sits down where she was sitting. Our elbows and knees touch, I pay no mind because it is a crowded train, however he could have closed dem legs and squeezed a bit. Anyways, he turns towards me and asks if I know how to get to Regal Park. My knowledge of Queen is very limited since I abhor it so much, i'm extremely content being ignorant about the streets of Queens. I tell him if he can at least tell me what stop he should get off or the train he's supposed to take, I can help him out. But all he knows is Regal Park, 67th avenue. I tell him, it's best to get off on Roosevelt avenue and ask someone because i'm sure he's not on the right train and will have to transfer. Roosevelt avenue also contains many connecting trains so it'll be better for him.
I apologize for not knowing where Ragal Park is and feel bad for the poor fella. But I go back to my book, few minutes later he asks if he should ask the guy sitting next to him. I say, "you can, but I really think it's best if you get off on Roosevelt avenue and ask someone there". Roosevelt avenue comes and we both get off from different doors of the cart. I start walking towards the end of the train, I see him again and tell him that he should go upstairs and ask one of the MTA employees. He tells me, "yea i'm thinking of cabbing it, I just came from London so i'm a bit lost."
The weird part was, when he was asking me for directions, I didn't hear his accent at all. Now I felt really guilty. I thought he was a New Yorker and I figured he can find his way, but the fellow was a tourist. I have a soft spot for tourists, so even though I was running super late for work, I still told him "okay come with me". I took him to the subway map and missed the 2nd train I was supposed to take! But I still walked towards the map with the guy, which had to be on the other end of the platform!!!!! Anyway, finally got there, found Regal Park and gave him directions. All he says to me after that is "cheers mate!" and walks away!
double-u, T, EFF!
I thought since he was desi and i'm desi and I totally missed my train to help him out, the least he could do is ask me out for coffee. I mean he was short for a guy, had a fake bling in his ear which is a major turn-off, but he was pretty cute. And I kind of thought he asked me for directions because he thought maybe I was cute. I mean seriously! he could have asked ANYONE on the train, but he sat down next to ME and asked. When he said "cheers mate!" and was walking away, I was pretty close to being like "seriously, that's it!"
But i'm pretty psycho for even writing about this encounter, I wouldn't want to be even more of a psycho by writing how I scared the poor guy.
I apologize for not knowing where Ragal Park is and feel bad for the poor fella. But I go back to my book, few minutes later he asks if he should ask the guy sitting next to him. I say, "you can, but I really think it's best if you get off on Roosevelt avenue and ask someone there". Roosevelt avenue comes and we both get off from different doors of the cart. I start walking towards the end of the train, I see him again and tell him that he should go upstairs and ask one of the MTA employees. He tells me, "yea i'm thinking of cabbing it, I just came from London so i'm a bit lost."
The weird part was, when he was asking me for directions, I didn't hear his accent at all. Now I felt really guilty. I thought he was a New Yorker and I figured he can find his way, but the fellow was a tourist. I have a soft spot for tourists, so even though I was running super late for work, I still told him "okay come with me". I took him to the subway map and missed the 2nd train I was supposed to take! But I still walked towards the map with the guy, which had to be on the other end of the platform!!!!! Anyway, finally got there, found Regal Park and gave him directions. All he says to me after that is "cheers mate!" and walks away!
double-u, T, EFF!
I thought since he was desi and i'm desi and I totally missed my train to help him out, the least he could do is ask me out for coffee. I mean he was short for a guy, had a fake bling in his ear which is a major turn-off, but he was pretty cute. And I kind of thought he asked me for directions because he thought maybe I was cute. I mean seriously! he could have asked ANYONE on the train, but he sat down next to ME and asked. When he said "cheers mate!" and was walking away, I was pretty close to being like "seriously, that's it!"
But i'm pretty psycho for even writing about this encounter, I wouldn't want to be even more of a psycho by writing how I scared the poor guy.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
I Heart NYC
Yesterday I was on the F train Queens bound (ewwwwww). The train stops at Roosevelt Ave. and it's not moving. I don't think much of it since it's a popular stop so people are probably getting in and out. All of sudden I look to my right and an MTA employee (EWWWW) calls in his radio, the cart number and where we are located. I also see people starting to get up and look at the floor so I take a quick peek and I see a guy passed out on the floor.
The MTA employee asks if there are any doctors present, when there wasn't, he was communicating with the outside world to get cops or paramadics in here. Obviously the train isn't going anywhere, I can't take any other train. I'm boderline annoyed that this guy is passed out and they'll evacuate us and take forever to do what takes ten minutes to do. None of us know what is going on with the guy. Someone says to give him some water, someone says maybe he's drunk. The MTA employee calls in and says "I don't know, I think this guy is passed out from drinking too much," but no one is sure.
The MTA employee walks away and a lady gets up from her sit and tries to wake the guy up. She says "excuse me, sir," "excuse me, sir", he doesn't wake up. Then she shakes his shoulder gently, trying to wake him up. Someone standing outside the train says "don't touch him, don't touch him," to that she says, "it's okay, i'm a nurse." She flips him over and says "come on baby, wake up baby, are you okay?" The guy wakes up and nods his head. She asks him "are you drunk?", he nods his head (but of course....). Instantly all the sympathy, empathy, any form of kindness vanishes from every single person on the track. Now it's replaced by "sit down, sit down", "they are calling the cops," "sit down, I want to go home", "they are not going to close the door unless you sit down", "come on man, you're holding up the train."
Finally he gets up and he's stumbling but finally sat down. The MTA employee came back and everyone's like "look, he's okay, he was just drunk". The employee asked him if he needs any medical assitance and all that legal stuff. The drunk guy answers no, he's also trying super hard to stay awake. Finally the doors close, gives us all hope, opens again just to tease us and closes once more and the train moves on. The drunk knocks out once again, but this time in his seat.
The MTA employee asks if there are any doctors present, when there wasn't, he was communicating with the outside world to get cops or paramadics in here. Obviously the train isn't going anywhere, I can't take any other train. I'm boderline annoyed that this guy is passed out and they'll evacuate us and take forever to do what takes ten minutes to do. None of us know what is going on with the guy. Someone says to give him some water, someone says maybe he's drunk. The MTA employee calls in and says "I don't know, I think this guy is passed out from drinking too much," but no one is sure.
The MTA employee walks away and a lady gets up from her sit and tries to wake the guy up. She says "excuse me, sir," "excuse me, sir", he doesn't wake up. Then she shakes his shoulder gently, trying to wake him up. Someone standing outside the train says "don't touch him, don't touch him," to that she says, "it's okay, i'm a nurse." She flips him over and says "come on baby, wake up baby, are you okay?" The guy wakes up and nods his head. She asks him "are you drunk?", he nods his head (but of course....). Instantly all the sympathy, empathy, any form of kindness vanishes from every single person on the track. Now it's replaced by "sit down, sit down", "they are calling the cops," "sit down, I want to go home", "they are not going to close the door unless you sit down", "come on man, you're holding up the train."
Finally he gets up and he's stumbling but finally sat down. The MTA employee came back and everyone's like "look, he's okay, he was just drunk". The employee asked him if he needs any medical assitance and all that legal stuff. The drunk guy answers no, he's also trying super hard to stay awake. Finally the doors close, gives us all hope, opens again just to tease us and closes once more and the train moves on. The drunk knocks out once again, but this time in his seat.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Pizza Face
I went to Minnesota for a week and all of a sudden my face broke out!!!! I have no idea why, I think it was the water. You always blame the water......sneaky little bastards.
Anyway my breakout turned to rash and now I have ze pizza face. It is GRRRROSSSSSS, i've got red spots all over! I never had any encounter with the breakout of pimples during my teenage years or ever. And to all of a sudden to experience such trauma is quiet embarrassing. But still, thou shall not prevent me from getting some hand-pulled noodles tonight from Xian Foods.
For those of you who are devastated by such tragedy, rest assure, I have an awesome ointment. I call it my own windex (referenced from My Big Fat Greek Wedding), seriously, this stuff works! You do need a prescription in order to get it though, but i'll share mine with you. Well maybe not, I need it to last....
Anyway my breakout turned to rash and now I have ze pizza face. It is GRRRROSSSSSS, i've got red spots all over! I never had any encounter with the breakout of pimples during my teenage years or ever. And to all of a sudden to experience such trauma is quiet embarrassing. But still, thou shall not prevent me from getting some hand-pulled noodles tonight from Xian Foods.
For those of you who are devastated by such tragedy, rest assure, I have an awesome ointment. I call it my own windex (referenced from My Big Fat Greek Wedding), seriously, this stuff works! You do need a prescription in order to get it though, but i'll share mine with you. Well maybe not, I need it to last....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)