Daily Comedy On The MTA
Okay, since I left SIDC, I’ve been hanging out in the city more often like I used to. So of course what comes with this is more run-ins with hobos, bad attitudes, WACKY TOURISTS who can’t get out of the way and late-late night craziness on MTA buses.
As is the case every summer in Harlem, I see some cracked-out dude walking down the street, seemingly minding his business — only to have him let out a primal scream and then babble to himself while startled outta towners look on in amazement and fear.
I can still remember a few summers ago when I had young Mike and young AJ with me and we were heading to Brooklyn. We were on the boat coming from Staten Island and this family of tourists are enjoying the sights from the Ferry. It was a mother, father and a son, and the son asks his mother: “mom, where are we heading?”. Mom: “Brooklyn, son”. Son: “really? So how do we get there from here?” (mind you they are standing on the rail while the three of us sit and watch the landmarks seemingly not move) Mother: “the subway”. Son: “(GASPS LOUDLY) MOM!!! DO YOU KNOW WHO RIDES THE SUBWAY?!?!” (we all look at ourselves, knowing he has watched a bit too much TV and DIE laughing).
Later that same summer, we were down by MSG walking and this hobo sticks his legs out as we walk by. I never make eye contact or talk to these guys, but the youngest of my cousins did. So he begs for money. I still say nothing, and instructed them all to do the same. So we walk off, and the guy mutters “yall ain’t nothin’ but some GHETTO TRASH…” (but he’s begging US for money ha). We laugh.
Just in the past couple of weeks I’ve seen some hilarious things.
I come back from Sunset Park out in Bklyn Thursday night and hung out in the city over at my chill spot (Bryant Park — 42nd side facing 5th), after sweating my calories away from the previous WEEK, I finally make it back to Staten and once I’m on this side, I get on the bus. I’m minding my business, listening to my tunes. Three young ladies get on and sit in the back of the bus with me. Then this homeless guy gets on. I assume he was homeless because the B.O. on this guy reminded me other homeless dudes. The thing was, I didn’t notice it immediately. Once we got up Victory Blvd. a bit more, I began to smell death. I looked up and the girls were laughing. They knew who it was, but I was slow because I was engulfed in my tunes. He nearly suffocated us and brought my eyes to bloodshot tears. He finally got up and moved when he realized the girls laughing. That smell is STILL stuck in my nostrils. It smelled like someone took a diarrhea dump, didn’t wipe and chose to get on the bus naked after sweating all day. I never want to smell that again. NEVER. But I know I will tomorrow when I’m down in the East Village at Webster Hall (if I have the nerve to go over there HA).
I was with young Mike and young D’Ann on the boat a few weeks ago, along with young Jasmyn. We were heading back to SI after I had shown Jasmyn the city for the first time. This oinker, who appeared to have tied on a few before getting on board with her friends stands on the rail. There was a good breeze that night, and as she’s yakkin’ it up, her skirt flies up. I see nothing but paste and cottage cheese. I nearly threw up in my throat and got up making noises as if I was actually doing it. Mike and D’Ann DIE. The lady goes “stop laughing at me, you know you enjoyed it!”. I go …………………………….. Asking her, “what are you doing, giving us a show here? We have underage kids here, dear god”. She’s like “yeah, you can say I was!”. I die along with them ha.
I swear I hear the funniest things while standing on line at stores. Hearing gay guys break up with their lovers extremely loudly on the phone, or old dudes barking at their wives over the phone because they hadn’t “taken the fish out” yet ha. I was standing on line waiting on the 1 down on Houston St. I was heading up to Christopher to meet Tara and her friends. I am exhausted after having been in midtown, Top of the Rock, CPK (both sides from Grand Army and 60 up to 72 and CPW), then went up to Harlem to see my family, came back down to Varick, walked 30 blocks and came to this station at Houston. This kid was on my left eating Chinese and I see a hobo digging in the ash can for food. He scores a leftover meal and sits down next to me. I don’t even think anything of it. Alls I know at this point is I got two cats next to me who are eating and I hadn’t eaten a THING at this point (7 pm — had a cup of coffee and nothing more — I have bad eating habits ha). So I was glad to get up to NYU and figure out where we would grab something to eat. We finally get some Halal and head back, after she gets terrified by this weird guy with spaced out eyes talking trash to the Halal guy as she ordered her gyro ha. I just looked at the guy and shook my head because he was just joshing around, but the Halal guy was ready to throw hot food at him ha.
Just yesterday, young Tara and I were coming back from walking around in the Village. I was on the prowl for my dirty hot dog stands after showing her a couple of my spots in the East Village (Buono Sera for one, over on University and 12th). So we avoid the subway and walk from 12th and 3rd all the way over to Canal to catch the 6. Not a walk you want to make after you had walked 150 blocks prior to that already. Anyway, we get to the ferry terminal on the Manhattan side and I’m wolfing down my dogs. I throw the paper away left-handed Michael Redd style, and this guy with 26 teeth missing goes “GOOD SHOT”, but where’s your rings? I roll my eyes. HERE WE GO. Mind you, this guy is from Brooklyn. You know me, I’ll yak about sports with anyone in any borough if they’re up to it. Young Tara’s sitting there with an eyebrow raised at this guy. He looked like Delroy Lindo, just with 6 teeth ha. He’s like, let me guess, you one of them Knick fans. I says YEAH I SUFFERED THIS ENTIRE DECADE LIKE THE TRUE KNICK FANS HAVE. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Meanwhile, his boy is beside him agreeing with me (fellow Knick fan). This guy is a BULLS fan and trying to give us the business because the Knicks haven’t won in 36 years ha. Big deal. Tara knows her stuff and she calls him out (he was butchering the names of guys in the NBA worse than Dick Stockton does on TNT ha). He said the Celtics never won anything, and that noone (no one) could beat the Lakers in the 80s (Boston and Detroit did). The guy was a frontrunner. He claims he liked the Lakers in the 80s,t he Bulls in the 90s and the Lakers this decade. Along with these chicks I know who like Ray Allen and Boston, I do NOT understand why so many fellow New Yorkers love these teams (other than frontrunning ha). He yaks and yaks and yaks — thinking I’m probably 21 or so, since I don’t exactly look 30, and therefore thinking he could try to tell me stuff that I know better than HE does, having watched pro sports since 1985. The boat comes and we nearly miss it. I walked off, thinking Tara is with me and she’s still entertaining this buster. I’m like “dios mio, COME ON before we miss the boat and have to sit here another half hour”. That guy was weird, because he starts talking basketball just because I threw paper away ha. What on earth.
On that ride back on the boat, this guy from down south sits next to us. Tara asks me where I think they’re from. I’m like “what am I, an etymologist? I dunno.” But they have a 3 year old crying LOUDLY. She was piercing ears out there. I didn’t mind her, though. I’ve been around that all my life. So after about 10 minutes, the father taps her on the arm and says “CALM DOWN HONEY, YOU’RE EMBARRASSING US HERE!!! LOOK AT THESE PEOPLE LOOKING AT YOU!!! (noone was paying her any mind, Tara and I were debating about Kobe Bryant ha — she hates him BTW and that doesn’t fly with me ha) I look up at the guy and he’s red in the face. One thing he should know by now is that no one really cares about that stuff. Calm your kid down because she gets on your nerves, not because of what someone who will probably NEVER see you again may think ha.