The Lifespan of a Fly

The Perils of Public Transit – Part Trois
January 27, 2011, 5:16 PM
Filed under: Generalizations | Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

So there are times in my life where I actually surprise myself. I’m not a meek person, hell I wish I was sometimes. It would save me a lot of fights with friends and a lot of headaches professionally. My face is highly readable, and when I’m pissed off, you know I’m pissed off. There’s no grey area, it’s quite clear. If my face doesn’t tell you, just wait a few more moments and my mouth will. Ah, how my mouth gets me in shit (although to be fair, it often gets me out of it too).

You know those stories about little old ladies lifting 2-ton cars up off the ground to save their cat? A couple of years ago I managed a feat quite similar. We were walking at our favorite spot and some pit bull came tearing up at my dog. He had him pinned, and while the guys were frozen with shock, I lifted this bloody thing up off my dog and held him back. So that was pretty cool.

But that doesn’t happen to me often, especially when I’m on the bus or the train. In a world where refusing to give someone a cigarette can cause them to stab you in the neck, pretty much everyone turns a blind eye. Except this girl right here.

So I was waiting underground for my train today, as were many other professional-type people (not me, I just pretend to be professional). As well as a group of about 6 teenagers. I try not to judge teenagers on their teenager-ness, I just remind myself that most of them grow out of being inconsiderate little pricks; most of them. So here I am, all happy to be leaving work and stuff when I catch the smell of a cigarette. One of these little shits is smoking a cigarette in the train station. I look around me and everyone else just has this look of disgust on their faces.

But remember, I’m a psycho. So I go, well, psycho at him.
“YOU CAN’T SMOKE IN HERE!” I yell at this kid. He gives me this blank stare, so I thought maybe I should raise the volume a bit.

“YOU CAN’T SMOKE IN HERE! PUT YOUR F***ING CIGARETTE OUT!” It must have been the shock of actually being yelled at, instead of being on the receiving end of some passive glare.

“No one has ever said that to me before,” he says, to which I reply:

“PUT YOUR CIGARETTE OUT!” And then he does.

The other patrons gazed at me with awe in their eyes. Yes, I am mighty and tough and not scared of being stabbed in the neck. Which is nothing but a complete piece of bullshit. I was so scared that when I sat down I was shaking.

But hey, if they were sharks equipped with heat sensing lasers, or bears with boom-boxes pumping slaughter tunes, I probably would have shit my pants too.


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