Overheard at work a few moments ago:
"Can we talk about our marriage?"
Ouch. This conversation is going to hurt to overhear. Seriously?!?!
Overheard on the D6 this morning...
Mother to child(affectionately): "Awww, you're all crusty!"
At the Eastern Market Metro...
One wholesome looking marine to the other: "Hey dawg, how do you spell 'second?'"
Two teenage pre-thugs. Sadly, I can't provide any more context for this conversation. Literally, those are the only words I was able to decipher from their advanced linguistics...
PT 1: "I'm gonna get 'em, stop sucking my penis."
PT 2: "Son, I'll be the first n*gga here with that sh*t."
Monday, January 31, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Wrinkled bottoms and stuck in the snow
I love guest bloggers. The story below happened to the lovely KV the other week. I’m finally getting around to adding it here.
Scene: Orange/Blue line from L'Enfant Plaza to McPherson Square around 9AM
Characters:
#1 Angry woman with ‘tude… not takin’ nothin’ from no one - Tall/about 6', late 20s, wearing a tight black spiderman hat
#2 Angry Lady with ‘tude… not takin’ nothing from no one- Short, short hair, late 40s
So the train is a bit crowded this morning. Not in the unsanitary way it gets sometimes, but enough to cause a bit of a ruckus when someone’s there to stir the proverbial pot. Lots of people start crowding in at L’Enfant Plaza, including #1 and #2.
1 shakes her head at 2 saying: “You can't just walk up in here like that.”
2: Places hand on hip and purses lips threateningly: “I said excuse me….”
1: “You can't jus’ be actin’ like that, gettin’ on the train.”
2: “What is your attitude about? Mind your own business.”
1 is now really worked up and physically in 2's face. They stare each other down for a few fleeting seconds (felt like longer) until 2 starts to cave: “I don’t want to deal with this anymore.” She’s currently standing next to me- I’m sitting by the window. She starts to move backward. 1 starts to egg her on saying "that's right. You just move your old wrinkly black ass away from here" 2: “can't walk away from that” and says to 1 – “you just a bitch who needs to mind her own business.” Again with the business…
This back and forth banter continues and then the seat next to me opens up. 2 takes that seat which, obviously made me really nervous. By this time both 1 and 2 have their own backups. Interestingly, their backups appear to complete strangers who for whatever reason formed some strange allegiances based on who knows what. Backups attempt to calm them down and hold them apart.
1 starts threatening to spit on 2. Afraid that I will get spat upon, I say "excuse me" in the sweetest way possible to try to get out of the way. However 2 is so engaged with 1 that I realize if she does notice me, it will only be to bitch me out for existing.
I look around and the seats behind me have started to clear out. The train is now comprised of the spectators and participants. Still wanting to be a spectator, I actually climb over the metro seat behind me and sit by the next door. At some point closely following my climb, a wad of spit appeared on the window by my former seat. Yep, that happened.
Without an appropriate segue or apology, they start talking about how the other one needs Jesus and some participant points out that they are both at fault. A nice lady next to me jokes that they are both probably going to the same government building. Sure enough they both get off the train at my stop (mcpherson sq) and just walk off like nothing has happened.
Love it.
Metro wins on this one. All I’ve got from this morning’s 11 AM bus commute is a bus full of hungover white people who, much like me, were banking on a snow day today when they went out last night. Ouch. At least we didn’t get stuck the way we did last night. Last night on an hour long trek through 3 miles, the bus straight up got stuck. The crowd stayed silent, nervously, except to crack up loudly when, after 5 minutes of revving the tires fruitlessly through the slush and snow, you heard distinctly: “Stop requested.” No luck, buddy… we’re not going anywhere. When we finally got out of the, err, situation, the driver was congratulated with loud applause and whistles. Excellent.
Scene: Orange/Blue line from L'Enfant Plaza to McPherson Square around 9AM
Characters:
#1 Angry woman with ‘tude… not takin’ nothin’ from no one - Tall/about 6', late 20s, wearing a tight black spiderman hat
#2 Angry Lady with ‘tude… not takin’ nothing from no one- Short, short hair, late 40s
So the train is a bit crowded this morning. Not in the unsanitary way it gets sometimes, but enough to cause a bit of a ruckus when someone’s there to stir the proverbial pot. Lots of people start crowding in at L’Enfant Plaza, including #1 and #2.
1 shakes her head at 2 saying: “You can't just walk up in here like that.”
2: Places hand on hip and purses lips threateningly: “I said excuse me….”
1: “You can't jus’ be actin’ like that, gettin’ on the train.”
2: “What is your attitude about? Mind your own business.”
1 is now really worked up and physically in 2's face. They stare each other down for a few fleeting seconds (felt like longer) until 2 starts to cave: “I don’t want to deal with this anymore.” She’s currently standing next to me- I’m sitting by the window. She starts to move backward. 1 starts to egg her on saying "that's right. You just move your old wrinkly black ass away from here" 2: “can't walk away from that” and says to 1 – “you just a bitch who needs to mind her own business.” Again with the business…
This back and forth banter continues and then the seat next to me opens up. 2 takes that seat which, obviously made me really nervous. By this time both 1 and 2 have their own backups. Interestingly, their backups appear to complete strangers who for whatever reason formed some strange allegiances based on who knows what. Backups attempt to calm them down and hold them apart.
1 starts threatening to spit on 2. Afraid that I will get spat upon, I say "excuse me" in the sweetest way possible to try to get out of the way. However 2 is so engaged with 1 that I realize if she does notice me, it will only be to bitch me out for existing.
I look around and the seats behind me have started to clear out. The train is now comprised of the spectators and participants. Still wanting to be a spectator, I actually climb over the metro seat behind me and sit by the next door. At some point closely following my climb, a wad of spit appeared on the window by my former seat. Yep, that happened.
Without an appropriate segue or apology, they start talking about how the other one needs Jesus and some participant points out that they are both at fault. A nice lady next to me jokes that they are both probably going to the same government building. Sure enough they both get off the train at my stop (mcpherson sq) and just walk off like nothing has happened.
Love it.
Metro wins on this one. All I’ve got from this morning’s 11 AM bus commute is a bus full of hungover white people who, much like me, were banking on a snow day today when they went out last night. Ouch. At least we didn’t get stuck the way we did last night. Last night on an hour long trek through 3 miles, the bus straight up got stuck. The crowd stayed silent, nervously, except to crack up loudly when, after 5 minutes of revving the tires fruitlessly through the slush and snow, you heard distinctly: “Stop requested.” No luck, buddy… we’re not going anywhere. When we finally got out of the, err, situation, the driver was congratulated with loud applause and whistles. Excellent.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Pay up, Germans.
So I got on the red line today to go from Farragut North to Metro Center because it was that damn cold on the way to work from my Guy-nocologist appointment (ugh, the worst). One of the best one-stops of my metro career.
Older gentleman with short dreads, four duffel bags, and a pair of those 3-D glasses you get in the movies (presumably to cover up his crazy eyes, but you could still see 'em) is staring intently at two toddler girls in a stroller, rocked gently by their rightfully concerned suburban mom. 3D guy explains articulately to the toddlers why baseball is better than football, but how football will ultimately be the final word. He calls out the passengers around him: "It don't matter how old you is... you could be old as that dude over there (points him out), you know she know what I'm talking about, and she maybe don' even like sports! (points to me)" He's right- I did know what he was talking about and I don't really like football. He continued, telling the babies, "You'll see that old man sportin an Albert Haynesworth jersey 30, 40 years from now. You know that's true. You KNOW that's true."
On the way to that metro stop, though, a man with a shockingly similar demeanor just kept repeating: "Germans have to give me a million dollars right now... and a million dollars every day!! Germans have to give me a million dollars right now... and a million dollars every day!! Germans have to give me a million dollars right now... and a million dollars every day!!" And finally, for some parting words, enjoy some context free quotes overheard on the D6 first thing this morning:
"She don' kno if it her son' baby- she hafta calculate the days!"
"If you can run outside and smoke, you can run outside and get a f**kin' job."
"Yea she do. Cuz she only got two teef in her head."
"B*tch, I'm doin fifty dollar weaves and sh*t."
Older gentleman with short dreads, four duffel bags, and a pair of those 3-D glasses you get in the movies (presumably to cover up his crazy eyes, but you could still see 'em) is staring intently at two toddler girls in a stroller, rocked gently by their rightfully concerned suburban mom. 3D guy explains articulately to the toddlers why baseball is better than football, but how football will ultimately be the final word. He calls out the passengers around him: "It don't matter how old you is... you could be old as that dude over there (points him out), you know she know what I'm talking about, and she maybe don' even like sports! (points to me)" He's right- I did know what he was talking about and I don't really like football. He continued, telling the babies, "You'll see that old man sportin an Albert Haynesworth jersey 30, 40 years from now. You know that's true. You KNOW that's true."
On the way to that metro stop, though, a man with a shockingly similar demeanor just kept repeating: "Germans have to give me a million dollars right now... and a million dollars every day!! Germans have to give me a million dollars right now... and a million dollars every day!! Germans have to give me a million dollars right now... and a million dollars every day!!" And finally, for some parting words, enjoy some context free quotes overheard on the D6 first thing this morning:
"She don' kno if it her son' baby- she hafta calculate the days!"
"If you can run outside and smoke, you can run outside and get a f**kin' job."
"Yea she do. Cuz she only got two teef in her head."
"B*tch, I'm doin fifty dollar weaves and sh*t."
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Leave Britney Alone!
Today, I wore my fancy shoes, so took the metro. I forgot the wildly different way people interact on the metro from the way they interact on the bus. On the bus, it's loud, whether people are greeting each other merrily or whether they're fighting over who's baby daddy was around first. On the metro, it's quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. In fact, the more people pack in the little cars, the less likely you are to hear a peep above your own sniffling, clearing your throat, or dropping your copy of the Express (and trust me- after that hits the metro floor, I really don't want to touch it again. Seen too much vom on the metro floor in my days). So today, it was super awkward when, on a super-packed orange line train (in Arlington, go figure), this man attempted to enter the train. Seeing only the crowds at the front, he assumed that the whold rest of the car was empty and the passengers were all self-serving tourist prototypes who crowd the door when no one's taking up any seats. So he yells in this high-pitched, gerbil-like whine: "Excuse me!" (If I were a painter, I could paint that noise) I literally thought the Chris Crocker the "leave Britney alone" guy had boarded the train. Then he realized the whole train was full, felt awkward, and profusely apologized. To I think everyone there. So painful to watch.
But not as painful as the train that got slammed by Angry Dude II's hardcord gangsta leather messenger bag. AG2 was a charming pasty fellow- balding on top but fully bearded, with a pot belly that was subtle enough it just clearly belonged to a 47 year old accountant who never quite managed to find that special someone. AG2 runs the metro down, even though he sees the doors already closing and, when they, in fact, close,, ,, ,, (thought that sentence needed a few, more, commas,)he rips off his shoulder bag in all it's glory, swings as hard as he can, and pounds the door screaming, "Aw, COME ON!! You Bitch!!"
Yes.
He was right, the train was especially bitchy today.
But alas, what else would I write about today if it hadn't angered him so? So thanks, AG2.
To leave you, here are a few (mostly) context-free quotes overheard in Nowheresville, VA over the weekend:
"Well... (thoughtfully)... I don't think she has internal bleeding..." -on the state of her baby sister's hangover
"Damn... (name removed) iced me up front!)" note to reader... iced: forced to chug an entire smirnoff ice on your knees. who knew...
"I wanna be black!"
"“Can somebody please tell me what the f**k I was supposed to tap out of?”
“I just saw a grown man piss himself, voluntarily, while chugging a beer.”
“I’m gonna roll the dice. If I roll a digit, you drink.”
“Nein! Nein! Nein!”
“If you need narcotics to cure your hangover, you probably need to go see a doctor.”
"You play (sports) like an Asian."
“She useda call me late, now she call me early sayin’ she late... ‘The f**k you say?!” -DC-based rapper Wale, on finding out he was about to be a father
In a game of taboo:
Guy with the card: "It's the first thing you do when you get married..." Newlywed respondent, while sitting next to spouse: "Stop having sex!"
So yea, my weekend was chock full of literary gold. And with that, I'm off to think about why there's still spinach in my teeth from this morning.
But not as painful as the train that got slammed by Angry Dude II's hardcord gangsta leather messenger bag. AG2 was a charming pasty fellow- balding on top but fully bearded, with a pot belly that was subtle enough it just clearly belonged to a 47 year old accountant who never quite managed to find that special someone. AG2 runs the metro down, even though he sees the doors already closing and, when they, in fact, close,, ,, ,, (thought that sentence needed a few, more, commas,)he rips off his shoulder bag in all it's glory, swings as hard as he can, and pounds the door screaming, "Aw, COME ON!! You Bitch!!"
Yes.
He was right, the train was especially bitchy today.
But alas, what else would I write about today if it hadn't angered him so? So thanks, AG2.
To leave you, here are a few (mostly) context-free quotes overheard in Nowheresville, VA over the weekend:
"Well... (thoughtfully)... I don't think she has internal bleeding..." -on the state of her baby sister's hangover
"Damn... (name removed) iced me up front!)" note to reader... iced: forced to chug an entire smirnoff ice on your knees. who knew...
"I wanna be black!"
"“Can somebody please tell me what the f**k I was supposed to tap out of?”
“I just saw a grown man piss himself, voluntarily, while chugging a beer.”
“I’m gonna roll the dice. If I roll a digit, you drink.”
“Nein! Nein! Nein!”
“If you need narcotics to cure your hangover, you probably need to go see a doctor.”
"You play (sports) like an Asian."
“She useda call me late, now she call me early sayin’ she late... ‘The f**k you say?!” -DC-based rapper Wale, on finding out he was about to be a father
In a game of taboo:
Guy with the card: "It's the first thing you do when you get married..." Newlywed respondent, while sitting next to spouse: "Stop having sex!"
So yea, my weekend was chock full of literary gold. And with that, I'm off to think about why there's still spinach in my teeth from this morning.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
I'm sold on it...
"They gave me pizza, and I didn't even have to put out!"
- M, on why we should go to the gay bar based on previous experiences
- M, on why we should go to the gay bar based on previous experiences
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."
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.
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.
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