Monday, August 31, 2009

The Manny Tapes (Final Chapter)

From January 2008:

I’ve noticed that when I’m with the boy on the train, the speed of said train is in direct proportion to the boy’s behavior. If he’s sitting placidly, quietly looking around giving the ladies the goo-goo eyes which lures them into my own web of seduction, the fucking train hurtles down the track like it’s me at the Pizza Hut buffet when the meat lovers pizzas come out. Fucking a, we get to our stop so quickly I’m almost disappointed, since for once he’s quiet and not bothering anyone so I’m able to relax and take a breath. BUT. If he starts chirping, if he starts squealing and bitching or crying, well well well whaddya know, the fucking thing slows to a goddam crawl. As the passengers around me get annoyed and give me dirty looks cause the kid’s shouting, you can almost hear the train going “hhhhheeeeeeeeeey, what’s this, Xmastime in awkward situation…let’s slow this thing down, see what happens!” Fucking a. Grrrrr!

On a side note, it does actually pay to be a dude when bringing a baby on the train. If you’re the mother, people expect you to be some sort of miracle worker, juggling 4 kids on your lap while baking a soufflé and inventing Soduko – if one of those kids squeaks out one peep, everyone gets bitchy and rolls their eyes etc. But a dude, hell, everyone’s mildly surprised you’re even able to put pants on the kid before bringing him outside. When the kid starts chirpin you can put on your harangued, beleagured “oh my god im so fucked” face and everyone gives you a pass, just thankful the kid’s still fucking alive. “Poor bastard” they think “gee whiz, poor guy, look at him, doing his best. God bless him.” One for the dudes!!

"Hahahahaaha! Xmastime, your next stop should be the boneyard, you fat stupid fuck!!!"

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