gravel

decided to take the late train as the bastard is trying to not get sick again when i see little to no seats on the connection at jamaica. oh wait there's one. guy in a shearing playing with his treo. big guy. oh well, we'll make it fit. you know, there are very few advantages to growing up in a smokers household. one of them is that when i need to, my voice can sound like a low rumble.

"excuse me, can i get in there", comes the otherworldly growl.

he looks at me, he looks back to his treo, he looks at the window seat i'm eyeballing. i look at him and nothing else. he's a big guy. it may be his jacket's just bulky but i already know before he decides to get up that he'd tower over me. and lo and behold after some soul searching, treo gets up. no one wants the window seat facing east. you get the sun in your eyes. ergo, the shades. as i pass behind him i thank him in a voice that sounds like the voice of the lidless eye of sauron in lord of the rings. then treo sits down and inhales. then he puts his elbows over my arms. you see, playing minesweep on your treo is a complicated business and we can't let little bald men no matter how intimidating they look and sound get in the way of that. inhale some more. take up more space.

oh wait, i have to get out my ticket. oh, is that my elbow in your gut now? whay yes, yes it is. you finished? not by a long shot by do inhale again, shiteyes.

oh wait, i can't stand the silence. let me get the bastard pod out. i'm sorry, did i just shove my elbow into your ribs? oops. my bad. comfy yet? sure but there's always a need for a little more comfort but you keep on doing that puffer fish crap, shiteyes.

oh damn, i don't like this song. gotta take the pod out. change it. put it back. take it out. change it. put is back. you ain't even trying anymore are you?

oh yeah, i have to put my ticket away, hey treo, where ya going? oh you'd rather stand the rest of the way? was it something i said or was it something jamming into your ribs. oh well, enjoy yourself. you know if you had a newspaper i would have had a field day with you.

—the bastard