the elf one time told me why he couldn't stand his sister's driving habits…
she'd be on the grand central parkway…
in the passing lane…
at 50 mph…
because that's the speed limit.
and it didn't matter that she was creating massive gridlock because everyone who uses the passing lane as the grey area it is for driving rules (read: it's for passing) because 50mph was the speed limit and they can go around her.
this morning: the 6 train rolls in and despite the platform being clearly marked where you need to stand…
it rarely stops exactly in place…
so when it does, the bastard has to move to one side…
cue 'jowels' here.
he ain't moving…
so I lean back and he ultimately eats my elbow or perhaps his stomach does.
I don't recall.
but we both get on.
and jowels?
well he sidles up.
perhaps he's read my subway playbook…
perhaps he thins he has his own subway playbook…
perhaps he didn't read the chapter on not getting too close to the animals…
perhaps he could have avoided riding with my knee in his rib cage…
or was it his whale blubber…
one can't be too sure these days.
moral of the story is…
we should all give in a little…
—the bastard
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