One of the most far-fetched, least believable moments on the first season of our show, Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys, was when Sarah “you-didn’t-know-I-was-so-hard-up-for-a-date-until-I-went-on-national-television-and-told-you-a-million-times” Rose actually did go on a blind date with a dashing, charismatic fellow. After having what seems like a pleasant enough time, (especially considering the crushing weight of her impending spinsterhood), she blithely dismissed him because he has an aversion to touching the hardware on the subway.
I found this curious because after watching poor Sarah kvetch for eight episodes about being a one-woman lonely hearts club, it seemed peculiar to drop this guy like a hot potato for a mere quirk, especially a quirk that I think is surprisingly sensible (which I guess would technically disqualify it as a quirk at all and make it more of a characteristic). In a rare moment of reality show authenticity, Sarah gave us some insight as to why she doesn’t go on a date unless it’s arranged by the production company.But I digress. Back to the subway. I identified with Sarah’s date. I will grab onto anything before touching the hardware on a train, which I think of more as petri dishes. In the winter its easy because I wear gloves, but, if necessary, I will hold the pole with a magazine or the cuff of my shirt rather than with my hand. In moments of extreme difficulty, I have been known to push up to the ceiling with my knuckles like a human tension rod rather than grab a pole. Or I hang onto friends. In moments of great desperation, in a feat of core strength that would make my trainer proud, I hold on to nothing at all and try to ride the rails like a surfer (this is the most risky approach as it can easily lead to disaster).
Do you think this is odd? Consider this: in thirty years in New York City, I have never, but never, seen an MTA worker clean the hardware. I have however, seen hundreds of nose pickers, nail clippers, drunk people vomiting, and that’s just the people with homes! Consider too that the last stop on the E train, Chambers Street (which will soon service the Freedom Tower), is a de-facto bathroom for those less fortunate or those too lazy or drunk to find a proper facility. How do I know? Well, friends, let’s just say mine eyes have seen the gory.
If you read this blog regularly, you know how I feel about the flip flop people – those individuals for whom life is a perpetual casual Friday. So casual, in fact, that they walk around in vomit, leaking McDonalds’ trash bag juice and dog urine in a collective delusion that the streets of Manhattan are a Mediterranean beach. Yeah, well life’s a beach till little Cindy Lou gets impetigo!
When it comes to kicks, I kick it old-school. I was taught to keep my bare feet as far away the filth of the city streets as possible. Go ahead and say “hey Dave, loosen up!” You call it neurotic and I call it common sense. I wonder what percentage of the flip flop people return home after a long day walking around the steamy city essentially barefoot and get in bed without washing their feet. I don’t know but I would love to see some data.
So why am I writing all this? Because though it takes a lot to shock me, this morning I witnessed something on the train that probably set a new high benchmark of nasty funk. Yes my friends, just when you thought you’d seen it all, a skanky girl wearing Daisy Dukes goes and sits on the floor of the train with her bare ass!
MicheleJune 9, 2011 at 1:43 pm
You are a riot, David! You make me laugh. I love you!
RobJune 9, 2011 at 1:59 pm
Very funny! xoxo
LaurenJune 9, 2011 at 3:56 pm
JonJune 10, 2011 at 8:58 am
Love the impetigo reference…
AnneJune 10, 2011 at 11:45 am
OMG that photo is disgusting! It is even more disgusting because I’ve done the surf the rail pose before myself and besides my core the only thing keeping me from falling is the utter fear of hitting the floor of the train. I did once lose my balance and grabbed the pole which caused me to try not to do anything with that hand until I made it back to wash my hands repeatedly as if I had OCD.
On the flip flop thing, I’ve not done it in Manhattan but even if I wear them some place outside of NYC I either take a shower when I get home or sit on the edge of the tub and scrub my feet. There’s on person’s date on that.
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