Rebellious cuss that i am, i was about to hop aboard The Yankee Express this afternoon, knowing full well that i wasn't supposed to ("This train is for Yankee Stadium... OWN-ly!!!").
Before i could step inside, however, a ticket taker pointed at me and asked where i was going. He was a big dude. Very muscular. Like, collecting train tickets was how he made a living, but his real passion was weightlifting. And cracking walnuts with his eyelids.
"White Plains," i sighed.
I knew what was coming.
"Sorry, this is just for Yankee Stadium."
I mean... i'll say this for him-- he was nice about it. Made me think he was an introspective soul. Weightlifter, walnut cracker. Writer of haikus.
"Click clack goes the train
Flexing my tattooed bicep
Making barbwire dance."
So, i put my hand on his shoulder and said, "Look, man, i know you're just doing your job, but, c'mon... there's plenty of seats."
"Oh, this just goes to Yankee Stadium," he said. "There's another train coming in seven minutes."
Neither thing he said was true, really, but, hey... i got home eventually. And i didn't have to deal with an arse. I'll take an misinformed nice guy over a know-it-all jerkweed any day of the week.
the five things i fell in love with today...
1) Albert Pujols
2) Mookie Wilson
3) Greg Luzinski
4) Willie Stargel
song of the night...
"Here Comes the Sun" by The Beatles.
movie of the night...
"A Hard Days Night" ...been on a big Beatles kick most of this week.