Monday, December 13, 2010

Suicide doors and sh*t

The following was taken from the DCist's Overheard in DC. I had no idea they had such a thing! But of course I had to copy it for you here...

Walking past two security guards outside of the Washington Hilton on 19th Street NW:

Guard 1: "Mu'fuckin car had suicide doors and shit man."
Guard 2: "What, them doors that go up? They's called butterfly doors."
Guard 1: "Like 'flap, flap'?"
Guard 2: "'Tweet, tweet.'"
Guard 1: "Word."

Monday, December 6, 2010

Where them singles at?

It's a rare and shocking evening when a ride on the X2 actually makes my night better. Reader, this is not a joke. What started out as a dangerous, crowded, and non-hygenic journey into northeast turned into a strange show of camaraderie and understanding amongst metrobus riders.

It all started when the bus driver actually waited for me while I ran through the frigid wind to catch it along with another guy who thankfully ran faster and shouted louder than I did. I stepped onto a packed bus, warmed not only by the heat, but also by the lack of personal space created by the crowds. I couldn't even move, but was happy to be out of the cold for approximately 1.5 minutes before getting really, really hot. I couldn't take off my coat or gloves, but tried to loosen the scarf around my neck- it did nothing to alleviate my discomfort and near panic. Guy next to me agreed. Irritated that the bus driver continued to let people onto the bus despite it's being well past safe and sanitary capacity, he began grumbling loudly to himself: "Got-damn. This murrf*cker (murr=mother?) keep lettin' people on we ain't got no place to go. Got-damn. Murr-f*cker damn crazy." Clad in long dreads and a cross tattooed on his face below his eye (care to interpret, anyone?), I didn't want to get in his way, but I had no choice. My leg was positioned firmly against his, and there was nothing either of us could do about it. Luckily, he took the opportunity to hit on the woman next to us: "that your daughter? My daughter look just like her. See? (shows pic on iphone) She be 9 months. Lookin jus like her an sh*t." Strangely, the woman seemed somewhat responsive!

Finally, in response to the bus driver's repeated commands to "move to da back o' da bus," a woman in the back somehow hollers loudly above all the commotion to where the whole bus stopped talking to listen to her. "Look," she calmly but (really) loudly explained. "I done gone as far back as I could do. See? I'm all da way at the back. I even took my man with me, see? There ain't no way else we gettin back here." Surprisingly... the bus driver listened! No one else was allowed on at that stop. Truly, it was incredible to see that level of noise, commotion, and disarray respond to such plain logic.

By the next stop, I had enough room to move a bit farther back. The woman (and her man) found a seat and started a lively conversation. Woman: "Hey! Who got the singles? Where the singles at? I know someone know where the singles be up in here." I knew I had been riding the bus too long when I knew right away that she was not referring to eligible bachelors or bachelorettes, but to Newport cigarettes. She confirmed: "Where dem single newports?" A man in the middle of the bus hollers back: "I got em right here. One dolla." Woman: "Alright, that's what I'm talkin about. Hand 2 of em over." Seller: "You needa give me the dollar first. Then I give them to you. (chuckles) I'll sing you dem newports." Woman's man: "Give her the two cigarettes and I give you one dollar. Two cigarettes. And a piece of chicken." Seller: "Hahaha. I ain't got no more chicken (it should be noted that there was never a public or visible indication that he ever had any chicken). All I gots da bones." Woman: "Well hand over dem bones. I'll suck on dem bones. I'll suck errrrthing off dem bones. Haha. I'm tellin you, I'll suck all the meat off dem bones."

I was almost sad to get off at 14th Street, especially given the human wall I had to break through to leave. But to my surprise, I was not met with hostility, but with people almost violently advocating for me: "let the lady through," "let the blonde sister by," and "let the white sister through!" Was that comment a tad racist? Probably. But totally sincere? Definitely. I felt taken care of and in a good mood after seeing the free market in play (the woman finally got her newports), humans looking after one another and, although a little gross, a lil' romance on the x2.

Seen on the way home? A license plate that read: "HIS LOSS." Because nothing says "I'm over you" like going out of your way to immortalize the bastard on your license plate.