I wrote this on the 5 train on my way to work…

I enter the train in the nick of time, grateful that I made it and will not have to wait another eight minutes for the next one. (Weekends with the MTA are “fun”.) As i take my seat, I notice that the man sitting right across from me has half a dozen books in his hand. I can see that five of them are the same title. Book club? Professor coming home from Brooklyn College? I realize that I am looking at these shiny new books as if they are some luscious chocolate cake. I want to put one up to my nose and smell that yummy “new book” smell. Then he stands up.

He’s the author. And he’s selling the books. His backpack must be full of them. Taking self-publishing to a whole new level, I think to myself. I grin when he says, “Don’t miss your chance to get this number one subway bestseller, soon to be a number one New York Times bestseller”.

He gives a brief synopsis of the book…first thing he says is that it’s a book “about a man who is addicted to new things”. Ah, yes. Like I am addicted to the idea of having a new book in my hands…yes, I understand the addiction to newness. I am tempted to purchase it…I think he says it’s $10. But he is gone from the car before I can talk myself into it, and before I can stamp the title into my memory…something about a woman. The man who is addicted to newness, he had explained, kept nothing because it couldn’t stay new. “And he lives off the kindness of women, and he lives well.”

Darn it. Now I really want to read that book.

After he leaves, an older Hispanic man in a suit jacket enters the car and urges us to be ready, because Jesus is coming soon. I already know *that* story. Maybe I really should have bought that book.

To quote Charlie Brown…

RATS!

So there I was, refilling my MetroCard at the machine, and suddenly a rat comes scurrying by with what appears to be a Sicilian slice (which is half the rat’s size) in its mouth. I made the appropriate freaking-out, shuddery sounds, and glanced at the guy at the next machine. He made no indication that he had heard me, or seen anything…either his music was too loud or he thought I was nuts…or maybe guys are just good at ignoring what’s in their peripheral vision on account of urinals?!

(Wait, what?!)

Then I start walking towards the stairs and I. see. another. rat. coming down the staircase. I decided to let him go first, because I’m polite like that. I was torn between wanting to scream and wanting to record it…because I care about you, my reader(s), and I want you to be able to experience the “fun” things I experience.

Of course, in my freaked-out state, I didn’t capture it on video very well, but if you watch in the first two seconds, you will see him or her…

 

​The woman walking up the stairs behind me mentioned that she sees them every night, and then said something that made me grin…”I guess they have to get home too!”

Yeah. How about you STAY home, rodents? I don’t mind you when you’re hanging out on the subway tracks, but I’d rather not have you commuting alongside me. Kthxbai.

The Millionaire

(Maybe I will just start blogging about all the people I encounter who are handing out flyers…)

So I’m walking home from work tonight and get sucked in by a woman handing out postcards. Not only sucked in, but I gave in and let her give me the schpiel…she was promoting some workshops, and as she went through it, something caught my attention…

“And this one’s called ‘Bringing Out the Millionaire In You”.

I stopped dead in my tracks and tried not to bust out laughing right in her face. “I am quite sure that I don’t HAVE a millionaire in me!” (leaving out what I wanted to say, which was, “Unless I ate him!”)

She spouted some platitudes about “everyone has a unique gift, yada yada yada” and mentioned Bill Gates (an extremely useful and relevant comparison for a 47-year old who works in a call center…) and who knows what else. I had stopped listening, because all I could think about was the fact that I had to get a copy of that postcard, because blog fodder!!!

I acted like I was very interested in that particular card, handily cutting off her schpiel at the same time. I told her, “I’ll definitely think about it” and walked away, thinking about it. So really I told her the truth!

I’m thinking about it, all right. Thinking about how this is the funniest thing I have ever heard. Wondering if the millionaire inside of me is male or female, if he or she would like some pizza, if I should name my millionaire…


And then I laughed like Peppa Pig, which is to say that I laughed so hard that I snorted and fell on the ground.

Sooo…if you’re looking for me this weekend, I’ll be hanging out with my inner millionaire. 

Not that there’s anything wrong with that…

So I was walking down the street in Greenpoint today, on my way to my awesome cheap haircut place

An interesting-looking man was handing out some kind of promotional postcards on the street (the kind of job that I picture myself being forced to take whenever I get on my “OMG I AM GOING TO BE HOMELESS!!!” anxiety spiral…) He was an older guy, and well, he looked like the type of person for whom handing out fliers (flyers?!) would be one of a limited number of career choices.

I was feeling altruistic, so I accepted the postcard even though it was for an eyebrow threading place. The guy smiled and said, “Hey…you know that show Orange new Black?* You look like the girl from that show.”

I smiled and said, “Really? Which one?”

“You know that show? You can see it on Netflix. You look just like that girl…she’s one of the inmates…”

(ummm, correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t 98% of the females on that show inmates?)

“Sure, I know the show, but which woman?”

“You look just like her. Go back and watch Season One.”

I did the only thing I could do, which was to say, “Thanks, I think?!” and kept walking.

I wish he was talking about Alex, although I thought Lorna was more likely…

I just hope he wasn’t referring to Crazy Eyes…

(*to be fair, I can’t remember now if he said “Orange is the Black” or something else, but suffice to say that he was not able to actually pronounce the full name of the show…)