That's Quite The Come-On

MAX-imum Awkwardness

Here's a story my buddy Tony sent me.  He takes public transportation to work too.  It's good to know there are other crazy people outside of California that actually bother us normal folk.  Enjoy.

It was a regular day of heading into work on the Max line here in Beaverton, OR.  With no inclination of what was about to be one of the most interesting rides I have ever had.  I was trying to find a place to sit and of course I had to sit next to a guy I could tell was definitely overly intoxicated.  As I sat down I could feel the stare down coming from his direction.  I first thought he was going to take a swing at me but instead, I got a tap on my arm.  Then it starts. 

He says, "Hey man?"  So of course I'm like, "What's up?"  He says, "Are you ready man?"  I'm like, "For what?"  He's like, "For the end of the civilization."  Then to top it off he's pretending like he was shooting a gun and then moves from one side to the next.

He begins to tell me that ammunition is too expensive and says he's going to use bow and arrows instead. Then he starts imitating that he is shooting a bow & arrow. So I decided what the hell, I'll humor him and see what else he has to say, as the other riders are giggling at him while he keeps going on. Then he proceeds to tell me his life story of learning how to live off the land as a boy scout.

He went out on a three day excursion and they were taught to find food and fend for themselves. What the hell is this, the navy seals of boy scouts?  Now to keep a straight face I think I did pretty well. Then he tells me his wife thinks he's crazy as I think to myself, "She is probably nailed that one on the head."  Luckily, by this time I only have about two more stops to go. It felt like the longest ride ever.

It doesn't end there, because he then realizes we are on the MAX and he starts to ask me where are we going.  I tell him we're heading to Gresham, and if that is where he wants to go.  He tells me yeah and then proceeds to tell me if I saw him when the world starts going down, would I kill him?   I was like, "Oh no," but deep inside I am thinking, "You are the first one, if I gotta kill someone."  Lol.  Then he tells me about the one person he would trust with his life and asks me who I would trust.  I am just thinking, "Please hurry up MAX, I just want to get to work!" I told him I wasn't sure but definitely would have to think about it.  Luckily by this time, I was at my stop and said my goodbyes to him and shook his hand.  Then he had to end it off with, " Hey man, when it goes down make sure you find me."

Wow what a ride to work.  All that in short ride in.  I still laugh about it everyday.  This was classic.

My thoughts: Man, I'm just glad that crazy fucking dude didn't pull out a gun and start shooting people.  Acting like Rambo and shit.  Glad you're weren't splattered dead on the news buddy!  

Taking Notice

While listening to some Phil Collins on my way to work this morning, I'm taking notice about a few things.

1) As I stand on this train, I can easily tea bag this chick that's sleeping in the seat to my left.

2) Why is 82% of these fellow commuters either texting or talking on their cell phones? Do people really want to fucking communicate that early to one another?

3) Do the passengers that smell like complete dookie realize that they smell like complete fucking dookie? I mean, shit smells like shit right? Am I missing something here?

4) Is it really necessary to play your ghetto ass rap music on your phone for everyone to hear before 7:30am?

5) Is it even more necessary to sing along with it? We get it man. "You love to fuck them big booty bitches..."

6) How many people pretend to sleep so they don't have to give their seat up to an old person? Better yet, a pregnant lady? I see about 4 so far.

7) I never thought I would see someone who looked and dressed exactly like the rapper Kool Mo-Dee.  Let alone a woman.  Amazing! 

8) If you're gonna wear something that tight, please wear a thong.  It looks like your ass is wearing bike shorts lady. 

9) I've never seen someone push their own wheelchair while not sitting in it, til now.

10) Wearing white pants and eating a jelly donut was probably the stupidest fucking thing you could have done lady. Now it just looks like you're on your fucking period. Gross bitch. FAIL.

Never a dull moment. NEVER.

Saturday BART Ride

It's amazing the people you encounter when riding BART on a Saturday morning.  The people that surrounded me on my way back from the city to the East Bay made me wonder how on earth could a man and woman create these special individuals.

For instance, the lady sitting in front me.  It looked like her hair was made out of yarn, construction paper and hay.  Now how that looks is exactly how I described it.  Yeah, pretty fucked up, right?  The shit didn't move and the texture was breathtaking.  So amazing.

Up next, we have the sleeper.  Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever see one individual, sleeping with half their body in a seat while the other half was levitating in the aisle way.  It was like I had a free fucking magic show on BART.  And as a special treat, he was sleep talking.  Levitating + Sleep Talking for 30 minutes = A-MAY-ZING!

Our third and fourth special riders were huge fans of hip-hop.  How do I know?  Well, by how high the fucking volume was turned up on their IPods, two cities away could hear what they were listening to.  Yeah, it was that fucking loud.  I was at least 20 feet away from both of them and I could hear two different songs going on at the same time.  The guy sporting Ecko Unlimited looked as if his brain might explode.  Really.  If he were to turn the volume up any higher, his head would burst into musical fucking notes and Kanye West would pop out and give us a free concert on public transportation.

Our other hip-hop fan was much different.  This fan was a female and what I examined from her was interesting.  The more she was "feeling the music" the harder she was chewing the gum in her mouth.  It almost looked as if she was blowing a cock that was made out of steel or titanium.  It really looked like that.  I've never seen someone go to town on a single piece of Double Mint gum in such an aggressive way that it resembled her giving head to Robo Cock.  What also was amazing was the way she moved her body.  I felt like I was at a strip club on wheels.  A free show with a chick fully clothed giving the fans oral gestures of how she sucks the dong.  It made my eyes water.

Four people.  Totally different.  Very Interesting.  That's what I saw, that's what I examined.  Nothing made my ride more entertaining.  Until...

It's not what I saw, but it's what I heard.  A young lady talking to what seemed to be a man that gives her money.  At this point, it doesn't really matter if it was a boyfriend, lover, fuck mate, husband, dad or grandpa...it was someone that helped her out with funds.

"My math book costs me $300 for next semester, that's why I took out that extra money."  Look, I attended one of the best University's in the country.  Sure it took me five fucking years but I got a degree.  During that time, I never...ever, ever, EVER paid $300 for one fucking book.  EVER!  Now I overhear this chick that is attending a Junior College (saw a back pack she was sporting), talking about paying $300 for a math book.  A fucking math book?!  What's worse is that this is a math book that is for a Junior College class. A two-year college.  TWO.YEAR.COLLEGE.  A place where you go to get your GED completed.  If I'm paying $300 for a damn math book, that shit better have equations on how to build a fucking spaceship and a goddamn teleportation device.  That's what that shit better have.  Maybe even some codes on how to hack into the fucking Pentagon.  $300?!  You fucking serious?

I was baffled when I heard this and almost choked on my tongue.  Who was she trying to fool?  Shit, whoever it was, she fooled them pretty damn good.

Saturday BART rides.  Everyone should go sometime.  If you do, hit me up...we can make a day out of it.

Crazy Eyes

Have you ever been stared at?  Let me clarify that question...have you ever had a stare that said, "Hey bitch, I'm looking at you.  Look at me when I'm telepathically talking to you fucker."  Yeah, that stare.  That scary, creepy, "I'm gonna fucking kill you" stare. 

When I initially sat down on BART on my way home today, I felt THAT stare.  The only problem was, when I looked up, the creepy ass dude staring at me didn't take his eyes off me...for 25 fucking minutes!!!  Now I'm not talking about when someone looks at you, looks away, reads a book then looks back up at you.  Nah mother fuckers, I'm talking about when they stare at you and keep staring with those eyes that say, "I want to kill you."  I don't get intimidated very easily but for some shitty reason, this dude had me thinking and got me all worried like I should put my backpack in front of my chest so I can protect myself from being shot at.  He had me reflecting on some shit.  On life.  On what I could have possibly done for his crazy ass to be staring at me for 25 goddamn minutes.

The first question I had to ask myself because of my good looks and boyish charm was...did I bone his sister?  Cousin?  Mom?  Aunt?  Girlfriend maybe?  Nah, dude looked too crazy for me to even go near any female that would be related to this crazy sonofabitch. 

I know, maybe he knows someone I know, that he doesn't like?

I don't owe this mother fucker some money do I?

Which one of my brothers kicked this dudes ass to have me standing here ready to die from his revenge?

Maybe this crazy eyed cat is blind and he looks like he can see cause his eyes don't look all fucked up?

Like I said, he had me thinking about anything and everything.  I just wanted to get enough balls to give this sack of shit a big ass hug and $5's so he can go buy a Big Gulp at 7-11.  Hell, I'd give him enough money to buy a Big Gulp, a nudey mag and a pack of Newports if he would stop looking at me like he wanted to eat me alive.  "Why me?"  

We get to Oakland and the dude gets up and leaves.  All I could do was give him a half-ass smile (you know, the one where you look like you might cry before getting your ass whooped by your dad) because I didn't even know what else to do.

Whatever the case, that shit was not right and made me realize that maybe this dude read my blog a few days ago and thought my shit wasn't funny and offensive.  So not funny that maybe he should gaze into my eyes for 25 minutes while his veins popped out of his head as if he was either lifting more weight than he can handle on a bench press, or he was getting gang banged by Zeus and his buddies in Pelican Bay.  

I lived to tell another story about another crazy mother fucker on BART.