Please Don’t Breed

It’s a very weird world I live in.

This morning, as I sat on the train going to work, a young woman got on the train and sat down beside me. Now, when I say ‘got on the train’, what I really mean is she ran onto the train as if undead, machete wielding, psychotic killer dwarfs in clown suits were chasing her.

Dwarfs? Dwarves? Dwarf’s?

Anywaste, she sat down next to me and began rummaging through her shoulder bag as if her very life depended on it. At this point I became a little alarmed. I mean, in these crazy times who’s to say that the seemingly well adjusted, but frantic, woman beside you on the train isn’t some crazed lunatic who’s declared a personal jihad against all the dead-sexy Geeks in New York?

Hey, it could happen.

Lucky for her, she quickly found what she was looking for and tore it out from her bag before I had to use my mad kung-fu skilz and get all Jackie Chan on her face. Yeah, that’s right, boy-ee. What I was doing is called ‘Gathering The Battle Chi’. Not ‘Screaming Like A Baby-Girl And Cowering Under The Seat’.

Beelie’dat, yo.

So, what do you think was so important to her that it was worth getting into such a heightened state of panic over? Was she looking for a cell phone to report a crime? Had the bottle of corrosive acid she was carrying broken, spilling its contents all over some highly valuable manuscripts? Was she part of some crazy cult and had to give all of her wonderful electronic toys to the first person she sat next to on the train, starting with that fabulous Sony Clie? No! She just really, really, REALLY needed her journal.

Well, knock me over with a feather.

So, she whips out this journal and opens it to an empty page and starts writing, whispering to herself the entire time. As you can guess by now, my curiosity was piqued and I really wanted to know what was so compelling to her at seven in the frickin morning that she just hadto write it down. Since she was sitting next to me and I just happened to be reading a copy of PC Magazine, I slyly shifted myself around and took a peek at what she was writing. I didn’t read the whole thing, it was already almost a page long, but here’s what I remember.

“I can’t believe I just bought pot from a homeless man! Am I a pothead? I don’t know, but I already smoked two and I haven’t gone to work yet. They tasted funny. Now I don’t feel relaxed at all. It seems like everyone is looking at me funny. Watching me. Did I dress funny today, or something? It’s creepy. Everyone…”

Remember people, just say no to drugs. Especially when they’re from the homeless.

Stupid, stupid girl.