| The thing that separates NJ Transit from almost any form of public transportation in NYC is something that I would have never even thought of. The folks who ride the train in Jersey are much more civilized. Yep, it's true. There is NO BULLSHIT on the NJ Transit and because of the NO BULLSHIT rule I can read, sleep or zone out the window in total peace and quiet.
In NYC, there is always some garlic eater with white cords protruding out of their clueless heads, the tinny sound of Built to Spill bouncing toward me, grading my nerves to the bone.
But on NJ Transit, that shit is called on the carpet and prohibited by the passengers. "Turn it down", "Shut the fuck up", and the old stand-by "Shhhh, be quiet" are common phrases and supported by the collective group. Much more polite then even Amtrak.
So because it is usually quiet, when there is a cell phone conversation they are quick and to the point. The last thing you want is for some bitchy passenger to get all up in your grill to get off the cell phone. There is something like a 60-second rule before group policing starts.
Last Thursday morning a young hip Indian guy sits down next to me just as his cell phone is ringing. He shuffles around in his North Face backpack to answer it.
"Hey baby, how are you?" he said in soft, nauseating tones.
Long silence.
"Oh baby I'm so sorry. When did this happen?"
Long silence, and now I am annoyed because I am interested.
"Ah sweetie, it's okay, it's probably the just the chain. Did you take the top off? It's okay baby, you have to take the top off and see if the chain is connected."
Pause.
"Oh baby, we can do this, I'll talk you through it."
It is at this point, I got out a pen and my small black writing book that I carry with me for just such occasions. I have now named him, Pussy Boy.
"Okay, see the chain in the tank? Is it connected to the lid in the bottom of the tank? No? Okay, baby, you have to connect it to the lid. See how there is a hook and if you lift up the lid, the water flushes? Okay sweetie, you try it and I'm right here." Pussy Boy coos.
Long pause and by now, I am full-on gawking at him and taking dictation like a paid interns first day on the job. The guy in the seat in front of us, stands up, turns around and faces him, shooting him a dirty look. I smile and wave and the guy sits back down, but not without slamming his briefcase against the seat in front of Pussy boy. Pussy Boy does not notice but I giggle.
"See, baby I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you. You fixed it! That is one less thing you have to worry about. You don't have to call maintenance and have the worry of that. I'm so proud of you baby."
By now, I am desperately trying not to laugh aloud at Pussy Boy. I am grabbing my lips between my index finger and my thumb, squeezing them together like a duck beak attempting to use my super mind control powers, I silently beg him to stop.
Oh, but no.
"I'm so sorry you're so sleepy. Sometimes that happens even though you got enough sleep, you just wake up tired. Take some tea with you to work and some candy incase you need a pick me up. That way you will be all set for your meeting.
(Meeting? I have to say that up until this moment I had been under the assumption that this chick was a total stay at home entity. At the most she went shopping and had her nails done. She has meetings? She has a job, oh my god this thing is out there working in the real world?)
"Okay, baby, I love you so much. I'll check up on you later."
Pause.
"I love you too, baby."
Dude, just what the hell are you dating? Were you even born with balls? Wow, do you have undescended testicles or what?.
HEY, HEY LOOK WHAT I MADE.
They make great gifts and the gift-giving season is rapidly approaching. Permanent links are on the right but for quick access:
Link: 2007 Toy Camera Calendar
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