Seriously...what the hell lady

The thing I love most about public transit is that you see ALL kinds of different people.  Most are pretty normal and then once in a while you get a real gem.  I will do my best to paint you a picture of the mess I just saw.  I’ll try…sometimes words can’t do an adequate job….sigh, wow.

So I’m going to guess that this woman was a teenager in the 80s.  She had that over-tanned look about her, you know which one..kinda tight and leathery.  She was wearing what I would consider professional clothing, and looked pretty normal, on first glance.  I’m not sure which yeti she slaughtered to make those boots, but they were just a mass of long hair.  I’m thinking that she probably has to take a comb to them every time she wears them.  She HAS to, no way to keep them looking, ahem “nice” otherwise.  So she had animals on her feet, ok maybe her feet are cold, maybe.  Then we get to the handbag and notice that this woman is most definitely NOT a member of PETA.  The handbag looked kinda like suede, maybe calf skin.  I’m pretty sure she bought it in this store I saw in Texas once called “Dressin’ Gawdy” (No lie, there is a store by that name).   So, as we move up her person to further inspect the wreckage, I notice that her skirt is slit so high, I can see her panties.  Oh and her bra is hanging out too.   Keep moving on up and I notice that her hair is EXACTLY the same color as her handbag.   She had to have compared the colors on the box to the color of her purse.   So that’s a physical description of her…now the best part…whatever 1980s music she was listening too was really moving her.  Her legs did not stop jumping (kitty would have loved to attack that yeti) and I could hear the music across the aisle thru her headphones.  She was rocking out big time.  She had an empty plastic cup and she kept flicking it to the beat of the music.  Every person in this car looked at each other with a what the hell look on their face and we all gave each other knowing smiles.   Thankfully she did not ride all the way home with me.  I looked at the lady across from me and she said "well, that was interesting."  Well said, ma'am.

Oh the humanity.   Man, I love people.

And now you know, the rest of the story

I met a new friend this week and I introduced him to my blog, and then I realized that I haven’t actually blogged for a really long time.  Ok, so let’s face it, I’m not a serial blogger, I’ll only blog when I have some nothingness to blog about.  I believe I had mentioned to some friends before that I would give you all the backstory to some of my treasures on here.  Namely, it occurs to me that not everyone knows the story of the coatrack or Mr. Peen.  So here ya go, and now you know….the rest of the story.

The Coat Rack

A couple of years ago, I was waiting in the lobby with my director and a few other people for a meeting to start with one of our buyers.   In the lobby against the wall are three coat racks, nothing fancy just the ones with the metal pole and a shelf across the top.  I was standing there chatting with my co-workers and I was spinning one of the poles on a coat rack.  Well, yeah, it wasn’t secured and I spun it so much that the opposite end I was twirling spun right out of it’s little socket thing. I stood there helpless as every coat and coat hanger on that rack tumbled to the floor.  Now, it’s the middle of winter so there are a lot of coats.  There are a lot of sales people who visit this particular customer on a daily basis.  There were a lot of coats and hangars on this rack.  I will never forget the look on my directors face when he saw what I did.  God bless that man to this day.  He bit his lip so he wouldn’t bust out laughing and then he looked at me and said “don’t move”, as he picked up the other end of the coat rack pole.  Bless his heart, he even helped me pick them all up.  I was mortified!!  Stuff like that only happens when I’m at customer meetings with my director.  I don’t know why, just my luck I guess.

Mr. Peen

Good old Mr. Peen.  Ah, you’ll love this one.  One of my very first days as a commuter on this train found me sitting across from a man who had ill-fitting clothing.   As I’m looking around to see who is on the train, I happen to notice in passing that Mr. Peen is not well adjusted in his pants.  He had on khakis…rather tight khakis.  Long story short, I could see everything that God gave him….don’t be too impressed.  It wasn’t that great and well, he’s pretty fugly.  I mean really, if I get to see something like that, couldn’t the man at least have been hot?  (sorry, honey J )  Now, I’m not above telling someone their fly is open, I’d appreciate it if someone did it for me.  But, how do you look a complete stranger in the face and say “I’m sorry, can you adjust your crotch?  I can see the outline of your penis.”   Uh, not happening.  So in my effort to ignore it, my eyes kept wandering back to see if maybe he was getting pinched and would then adjust it.  I swear to all that is holy, the thing was like a train wreck.  My head was telling me to look away but I just had to watch to see what happened next.   What is seen cannot be unseen.   So from that day on, I have referred to him as Mr. Peen.  I still see him on a regular basis, but after 6 months I’ve pretty much blocked it from my memory.  No, I really haven’t, that’s a lie.  If I had, I wouldn’t be writing about it now.

There you are my friends, some back story.  I hope this helped to enlighten you on some of the other things I have mentioned before.  If there is anything else you want a back story on, leave a comment and I will cover it in my next blog.

Happy Wednesday! 

Love you all.

Ooh that smell….can you smell that smell?

Well geez, it’s about damn time I blog again, huh?  I have two quick things to say before I get into the meat of my blog today.  First, Thank you for the overwhelming words of support and encouragement I got after my last blog post.  I have been assured that it is perfectly okay for me to make my blog back into what it used to be, even after my last rather heavy blog post.  Second, after reading through my old blog posts all I can say is wow.  Seriously, how do you guys follow the rambling thoughts of my mind.  I could barely follow it and I wrote it!  However, you guys must find something redeeming about it because you’re reading it right now.

Ladies and Gentlemen…here it is… your long awaited, much anticipated blog post.  (Crowd goes wild….)

As you well know, I haven’t actually blogged in almost 2 months and it was a bit before that yet when I last blogged about my adventures on the train.  Well, I have had a few adventures lately, but we will take them one at a time.  The thing getting to me most right now is smelly people.  I thought about the instances of smelly people on or around the train lately and then I started to get paranoid.  Do I smell too?  Gosh, I really hope not.  Someone would tell me if I did, right?  I mean you are all my friends if you saw me and I was smelly, you’d tell me.  I know Heather would…. :P 

The adventures of smelly people started last week one evening.  I don’t really remember which evening only that I wasn’t sitting in my usual spot. …there’s your first problem.  Now that I think about it, all smelly people encounters have been when I’m not sitting in my usual spot.  Hmm….perhaps it’s not me after all.  Honestly, I can’t remember if the train was empty or full that night.  What I do remember is getting on and thinking to myself “WTF?  It smells like tacos in here.”  I’m not even sure how to gloss over this and make it PC, so I’ll just tell you.  Right before we got to the last stop of the night, the very heavy Hispanic woman opened her bag and pulled out a taco.  I’m thinking it was homemade, because honestly at that point I was really freaking hungry and it smelled so good.   What really got to me was not that I found the source of the taco or even that she was eating a taco, much to my envy.  What really made me shake my head was that she just started eating the filling with her fingers.  Now, maybe it’s just me, but if I have a damn good smelling taco in my bag I’m going to devour the whole thing, not just nibble the filling.  It really did make me laugh, and now I want a taco.

The second smelly instance was just after Christmas break.  I was having a lazy day and I didn’t want to make the 20 minute walk to my office, so I hopped on the connecting train for a shorter walk.  As I’m standing on the platform waiting for the connecting train a family comes and stands in front of me.  They were apparently on some sort of winter break vacation and it was very clearly their first time ever in the big city.  I’m not really sure why, but it was about 25* that day and the male figure in the family had on short sleeves and no jacket.  Who doesn’t wear a jacket in the middle of winter?!    I get that it’s been extremely mild this year, but really?  I mean, really?!  Anyway, from this family eminated the pervasive smell of onions.  I think mama made them some fajitas or onion soup the night before for supper.  Could be that one of the older boys was in desperate need of some deodorant…

Which leads me to smelly instance number three and this one occurred just last night.  Once again, the train was packed, as everyone is evidently back to work after the holidays.  Since my usual spot was full, curse them all, I had to go sit up on top.  We all know from past experience that NOTHING good ever comes from me sitting on the upper level of this bitch.  I sit down in the first open seat I can find and it is across from a young person.  I’m just going to call them a young person, because honestly I have no clue the gender of this young person.  Back to the point, this young person or someone around us, but I’m pretty sure it was the young person, seriously needed to stop at Target and get some deodorant.  Why or why is it so hard for people to just buy a nice smelling stick of something and use it!?   Is this the latest and greatest trendy thing to do?  I’ve heard on more than one occasion recently that deodorant is bad for you, but really do you know how bad it is for the rest of the general public when you don’t take 15 seconds out of your morning routine to put it on?  (Lisa, you are excluded from this train of thought because you aren’t smelly and I love ya).  Any insight?  Anyone?

How was that for a comeback blog?  I’m really hoping that I didn’t offend anyone this was kind of a touchy topic and I did go back and forth several times about whether or not I should even post it.  But there ya go….all in all, I’m just not a fan of smells.

<3