Chronicles of a New York Subway Vol. 6

Have you ever noticed that over the course of the day, you only really remember the things that you are trying to do, but you miss almost everything that you experienced over the course of the day? This is something I like to call Consciously numb. Hold on, we are educated right? Lets get a bit more formal

Consciously Numb(adj) - When you are consciously 'sleep' to your surroundings except for the things you want to see.

For example, the guy that bumped into you when you turned the corner. Immediately after you bump into him, you begin to forget about him.

You forget his hair color, his face, shoes, shirt, shoot, was it even a guy?

Have you ever been woken up violently? I mean, one of those "Darn, I REALLY wish i was still sleep" kind of awakenings?

You are with Sexy Sista/Handsom Brotha (pick your fancy) in a dream, and as the perfect scenario with you and them is taking place on the black sands of Hawaii, you feel comfort and happiness wash over you like the soothing envelop of the cool ocean breeze lifting the warm sun's touch. Your soul exhales as you reflect on life's true promise. The late evening sun colors the ocean horizon as it fades into warm hues of rose and amber, and long wisps of brush stroked clouds mirror the horizon across the endless sky. You can't imagine sadness or pain. You see your future in the reflection of their eyes, and you find yourself there, content, fufilled, and complete.

You hold each other, and feel love's intoxication grow to every part of you from the very core of your being, and you realize, as you lean in to kiss . . . .

Its 7:45am! BUZZZZZ! That means it time to get you butt out of bed cuz you are going to be late. You haven't ironed clothes, you have morning breath, and you smell like yesterday. You hair is a mess. Your out of breakfast food, and damnit, where are your keys?!?

. . . . .

Yeah, one of those wake-ups.

Well, lo and behold, I got one of those on the subway.

I was consciously numb on the subway, with the world around me barely existing. The only thing that was real, was my mp3 player since I was soaking up the sounds of Dwele's new album, "Sketches of a Man" and waiting on the R train to come and save me from the clutches of the 'Dangerous Crazies' of the new york subway (see vol .5)

As everyone does from time to time, they walk to the edge of the track, and look for the lights of the ghosts of Public Transportation future.

I looked up the track and then I looked back down the track, and there he was.

The violent wake up

No.

You dont understand.

The VIOLENT wake up. It jarred my listening. It shook my stability. It brought me back to reality.

There he was.

Mr. Gorgeous.

Yeah, I know. No man should EVER be referred to as 'Mr. Gorgeous', but I believe if you asked this man that, he would introduce himself as 'Mr. Gorgeous'

There he stood, looking up the track, squarely at me since Im looking down the track

. . . . . . .with his Breasts out.

I was shocked. Here is a grown man, standing in the subway, with, well, his breasts out.

I would say he was showing his pecs, but thats not how it was done. He had on a black beater, with a tear down the center JUST big enough to . . .well . . . .let his breasts out.

It was ridicoulous, and I never thought I would see a guy showing cleavage, but here I was, trying not to get caught looking at this ridiculous man and his knockers on view.

Mr. Gorgeous also had a jerry curled mohawk, dripping Dark and Lovely African Pride all over the subway grounds.

I immediately turned around and disguised my laugh as a light cough, you know, to save some dignity.

. . . .

. . . .

what did I just witness? The Just-For-Me spokesman was riding the train, probably making the ground around him quite slick from all the Duke juice running off his head, and smiling.

And I mean smiling. This guy was happy. I mean the kind of happy that makes you definitely let him score in the paint playing basketball, and Im sorry, tackle football is NOT an option. Let's play chess, you cool with chess? Chess it is!

My cough grew from light to a man's cough.

Now Im up. Now my consciousness is fully awake and able to see all the mess that comes with Public Transportation Anonamyous.

I turn around, you know, to avoid the Village person who didnt make the cut as a Motion's salesman.

What do I see?

A Bird?

A Plane?

A Bum dressed like superman?

Naw

A . . .I know i dont see this guy wearing . . . .a . . .a FUBU jersey?

What?!? The man is 10 years late for that one!

My coughing evolved to low-level hacking

Remember when you were young, and your parents told you that something and something else were the 'Same Thing' when you knew they weren't? You know, 'Pop Tarts' and 'Toaster Pastries' were the same thing, but YOU KNOW you could taste the difference? (Toaster Pastries! Holla if you hear me if you ate toaster pastries)

well, my man couln't, because his jersey had an "03" on the front . . . .

03?!?

Now, I know New York City has some of the most talented international sweatshop-retired bootleggers the world can lay claim to, but come on now. BLIND PEOPLE KNOW that Fubu jersey's had '05' on them.

My cough grew to a level that any loving girlfriend would be concerned about.

As he passed, I looked at the back of the jersey, to see who made it, and there is was . . . .

A GED myspace-lovers backwards '3' so it looked like "0E" rather than "03"

If I were him, I would call the sweatshop immediately and ask to speak with management.

Someone was slacking.

My coughing was going to increase, but I realized that Mr. Gorgeous might have a cough-drop, cuz well . . .he seemed like the type.

I just said screw it.

I turned around, put my face in my hand, and laughed.

What else was I supposed to do?

I got a 'Coming to America' Randy Watson Sexual Chocolate Stunt Double smiling up the track, flashing his breasts and probably smelling like lavendar, and Uncle Hudlow wearing a Generic Bootleg Fubu jersey with backwards numbers on it like he ordered it from "I'm 2 fly 2 B3 M3ZZin Wit U" Myspace Page.

*Sigh*

I missed at least three songs 'coughing'.

I waited on the train.

But I tell you what?

I damn sure didn't look for it.