this morning on the 6

so i'm racing this asain man to get to the escalator. i don't remember why, i think i just didn't like the cut of his jib. and we all know how much weight the bastard puts on one's jib. actually, you don't. you see the bastard really places alot on the cut of one's jib. it's a nautical term. read a frikkin book! god!

anyway this lady in in front of me on the escalator. no bag, plain clothes. doesn't exactly look like she's going to work, unless it's something less office like. either way, when you walk to catch the downtown you walk under the tracks to get to the downtown platform and you can hear the downtown pulling in. everyone picksa up pace because for a minute there you convince your self that you're gonna make it. or you pick up and decide not to bother but, you like walking brisk anyway. i was still trying to beat the asian guy to the downtown platform. you know....jib. so as we get to the top of the escalator and the plain clothes woman runs AT the closing doors. catches herself in them and forces them open with her mighty hulk strength (you wouldn't know to look at her but she had hulking strength. she just want to smash. don't nobody talk to hulk). she getin and ol number 6 pulls out leaving the bastard to slow downa dn walk to his spot. cause i have a spot. we all have that spot we go to and wait for the train everyday for whatever reason. mine is because when the 6 gets off at my stop, the doors open right in front of the exit so i can put on my angry charge face and roll straight for the exit for victorious glory...and coffee.

anyway as i saw plain clothes woman hulk open the door and body check someone to get into the car i thought to myself,"relax lady, it's not like this is the las chopper out of saigon". oh and speaking of saigon, i won the race. i have got to stop being so damn petty in the morning.

—the bastard