AndreaUrJoking

Was on the train around lunchtime and what do I have the pleasure of encountering today?  A teenage boy beating the shit out of his teenage girlfriend on the subway.  The car is empty except for these kids, a woman around my age half a car away and an older man at the opposite end of the car.  This scumbag had the girl crying, chased her into the subway car, stood in front of her and crowded her so she couldn’t leave, then began CHOKING her and SLAMMING her head into the glass!

At the next stop I, along with the other woman, got the attention of the conductor and they radioed it in.  After a couple of minutes of the train being held in the Christopher Street station, I guess the kid realized the police had been alerted because he exited the car with his arm around this girl.

Ladies, have some self-respect.  If your boyfriend beats you in public he will kill you behind closed doors.  Jesus Christ!

How sick are we that now we have teenage boys publicly humiliating and assaulting their girlfriends?  And how jaded are we, New York City, that no one cares?  A man asked what the deal was, why the train was delayed and we told him… his reply, “Is that all?”, as he huffs out of the subway station.

Yeah man, Saturday night it’s on!  J-E-T-S! Jets! Jets! Jets!

Since the Giants are out of the playoffs I think it’s only fair that all of their fans give us their support for the remainder of the season.  I think we can safely say that no one wants the Eagles or the Patriots to win the Superbowl.  A hearty and robust THANK YOU to all of the Giants fans who are now transferring their good thoughts to the Jets.

Now, if I may, let’s switch gears briefly and discuss one more wonderful moment in the life of Andrea.  Specifically, let’s talk about yet another commute that had me questioning whether I actually wear a sign that only the wretched and despondent can see which reads…

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.”

…because whenever anyone sits beside me on the subway, this person is a filthy, loud, fat, obnoxious mess!  I am like the Statue of Freaking Liberty and the seat next to me is like Ellis Island but not the glorious Ellis Island that we are proud of.  Oh no.  My personal Ellis Island really is more akin to the door to the asylum – you know, the door you enter before you are made to strip naked, shower, and receive medication.

Today I was on the train as I always am (Note to self:  Hire a driver when financially possible) and no one was next to me because The Blob was two seats away and there was no room beside me.  But, as usually happens, some turd decides to challenge the laws of the universe and squeezes her ass into the crevice between us.  Not only does her one ass cheek land on my leg (Note to self:  Bleach pants and leg when I get home) but she is all loud and obnoxious about not being able to fit.

THEN STAND, BITCH.

Anyway, she decides to stay put and talk with her friend (who, by the way, looks like Grimace  from the old McDonalds commercial) about… Jesus Christ.  

That is right, folks.  I have The Blob to my extreme left, a loud-mouthed Jesus freak to my immediate left and Grimace directly across from me.  The greatest morning of my life, it was not.

However, what does not kill us makes me stronger, yes?  So, since I’m an eternal optimistic, hopeless romantic, and supreme motivator I will not concentrate on those fucktards who ruined my commute since that is my doom, I mean my fate.

Instead, I will leave you with a humble plea to ask the Lord on high to please please please let the Jets win on Saturday and let the winning not stop until we have played an hour in Dallas and the season comes to an end.  Amen.