Random Thoughts

Dear Charles,

I need your help. Your theories are being sorely tested, and possibly proven. In fact, I fear the next stage of evolution is happening as I write this. Homosapiens are being replaced by Asshats, Douches and Uber-Douches. Allow me to point a few of these new breeds of "men" out to you:

Excuse me, can I please get off the train before you try to cram into the car? If that's too much to ask, how about stepping on the train sliding out of the doorway so I can still get off without having to squeeze by you? (Asshat)

When you sit on the train, do you think you could not sit with your legs spread ridiculously far apart? You're not fooling anyone. Your junk AIN'T that big. You're just trying to take up as much room as possible so the poor old lady getting on at the next stop doesn't try to sit next to you. (Douche)

If you've picked up take-out for dinner, in the name of all that is holy, do NOT dine on the train. I don't want to smell your meal, watch the grease accumulate on your chin and shirt, or see the food being ground down in your open mouth because Mommy and Daddy never taught you how to chew with your mouth closed. I also don't want to see you throw the refuse (wrappers, chicken bones, etc.) on the floor of the subway. (Douche)

If you've ever been denied entry to a bar because you were too intoxicated, it's OK. People get drunk. It's not a big deal. If you proceeded to argue with the bouncer/bartender/whatever, you're a Douche.

No one that has ever been denied entry to a drinking establishment, or asked to leave an establishment, has ever been able to successfully fight their way into being allowed to enter/stay. No one, in the history of drinking, has ever gotten a free bar tab for "whoopin' the bouncers ass". If you've ever suffered this delusion, you're a dill-hole and a Douche.

If, after you've picked a fight for the above mentioned reasons and gotten your ass handed to you, you subsequently called the cops to file a complaint, you're an Uber-Douche. You're also probably gonna spend the night in jail (if you drop the soap, let it go).

Urinating on a subway/bus, in a bar (in a place other than the restroom), on the door of an apartment or anywhere near a church or school...earns you the status, without reservation or exception, of Uber-Douche.

If you're 40-plus years old, and instantly fall in love with a 24 year old girl on facebook or myspace after seeing her picture, you're sad. If, after a few online chats, you get jealous because she works late, you're a loser. If, after being advised to let it go and get on with your life, you continue to inundate the girl with dozens of emails, fb or myspace messages, AIM messages, etc over the next 72 hours, you're instantly elevated to Uber-Douche.

"what do you mean my id is no good", "do you know who I am/my father is", "you can't keep me out, I know the law/it's a public place"...Asshat, Douche, Douche.

The following institutions deserve a little attention...

The MTA - After getting caught cooking the books just a few years ago, they've subsequently demanded fare increases EVERY YEAR SINCE. Institutional Douchebaggery

*honorable mention* - the citizens of NYC that haven't demanded to see the books every single year since the year of the cooked books. I love this city, but there are too many absolute fucking mouth-breathers.

ConEd and the NY Water Authority - Conservation is working. Usage of both electricity and water has been greatly reduced. The reward? Rate increases of 14% and 7% respectively. The logic? They've still got to meet their budget, so they're gonna get the money one way or another. WTF??? When I finally leave NY, I'm leaving all the lights on, turning on all the faucets, and nailing the front door shut. Institutional Uber-Douche.

All utilities mentioned can kiss my big country ass.

Civilian group mention...

The Critical Mass group - If you're not familiar with these fucktards, they meet up, ride through the streets of Manhattan, blocking traffic and breaking traffic laws to promote the need for mass transit. WTF??? These asshats are protesting too many cars in the city with the most extensive train system in the friggin' hemisphere, if not the world. Every month, these dipshits use the transportation ruse to interfere with life just because they're douchebags. When the NYPD attempted to organize them, so at least emergency vehicles could travel without interference, they sued on "freedom of speech" grounds. Still in the courts, this group has been elevated to hippie-wannabe Uber-Douche.

Please, Charles, I need you now more than ever. Tell me it's gonna be OK before I run amok and start punching these ass-clowns in the neck.

Love,

Matty

Self-love on the A train

After moving to the city many years ago, I found myself waiting on a crowded 14th street subway platform waiting for the uptown A train. My destination was Hell's Kitchen, and I was looking for work. I was flipping through the Daily News when the train pulled in. I was still flipping through the paper when I stepped into the subway car. When I looked up, I was confused. Everyone that had entered before me was crammed to the the front of the car, leaving the rear virtually empty...save for one guy.

Sitting in the small seat by the door, was an urban outdoorsman (translation: bum). Ordinarily, I maintain a "live and let live" philosophy. That tenet was sorely test, however, as the crusty gent had made himself comfortable...VERY comfortable. His pants were down to his knees, and he was, to put it delicately, rubbing one out (stroking the bishop, flogging the log, spanking the monkey, choking the chicken, etc). Amazingly, the other occupants of the car were trying hard to pretend not to notice. I, on the other hand, lost my friggin' mind.

"Are you people fucking kidding? " (I started handing parts of the paper out to people to shield themselves from any possible release of bum seed) "Jeez, at least protect yourselves!" No one refused this small offering of protection. In fact, it seemed to both ease their fears and stimulate their disgust at the same time. "Dude, you're a fucking animal!" said one strap hanger. "That's gross, man. Get off the train!!!" said another. A small, elderly woman, apparently of Eastern European descent (complete with babushka) stepped forward and, using the soothing tones of a grandmother offered, "I hope you die, you bastard!!!" before spitting on the floor at his feet.

The guy was now trying diligently to ignore the crowd as we travelled through the underbelly of the city. He had kicked it into overdrive and was pumping his fist like a man possessed, but to no avail. The car was on the verge of riot. Something metallic flew over the crowd and hit the wall by his head. It was quickly followed by coins, keys, pens, batteries and what I believe was a half-eaten slice of cheese pizza. It was like "bat day" at Yankee stadium in the 70's.

This broke the mood of self-gratification as the train rumbled into the station, apparently. When we came to a stop, he stood up and shuffled off onto the platform, shocking the riders waiting there. And no, he didn't even bother to pull his pants up. He merely held the waist band and went off in search of a quieter place...with his junk still dangling. "This city sucks" said the unsatisfied gent, "ya can't get any privacy."

True dat, my friend, you can never find a quiet subway train on which to beat your meat anymore. The city ain't what it used to be...WTF???

epilogue: I didn't realize it til I got off the train at the next stop, but I never got any of my newspaper back from the people on the train. I learned a lesson that day. From now on, I'll save the 50 cents and let the rest of the train get Hep C...bunch of ungrateful ass-clowns.