Finally, I squeeze onto the third train, my butt flat against the door and my vertebral column wrapped around an adjacent railing. I was literally touching and being touched by 15 different strangers, everyone holding their breath and wincing and not being able to move.
And then this GUY, who should be president or have a heart attack or be in a boating accident DAILY because he is obviously UTTERLY unaware of recognizing crisis, PULLS OUT THE NY TIMES, opens it up and starts HUMMING as he READS it. And he obvies has strangers up his butt, too, he just doesn't care, OR care that he has wrapped several people's heads up with newsprint like gramma's vase on moving day.
Obviously some kinda genius:
No comments:
Post a Comment