If One More Person Falls Asleep On My Shoulder, I'm Turning This Subway Car Right Back Around

At this point in my life, I'm fairly convinced that the universe is conspiring against me to place subway sleepers next to me, regardless of what train I'm on and when. Tonight is a case in point. I'm riding home from work and sure enough I start to see and feel the telltale signs of a subway sleeper. Out of my peripheral vision I see the head of the girl sitting next to me start to bob and loll back and forth. Her ponytail was swinging like a pendulum on a grandfather clock.

The thing with subway sleepers, you see, is that it all starts rather innocuously. A strap of their bag may slip off their shoulder and gently hit you. Their arm may accidentally brush yours. In summer months, this is entirely unacceptable. The feeling of a stranger's skin-and worse, their arm hairs-brushing against yours is rather disconcerting. Next thing you know, you're entirely focused on waiting for the offender to fall on you. It's like Chinese water torture (do any of us know, or even know anyone else who truly understands what it's like to undergo Chinese water torture?) You practically wish they would fall on you, only so that you can reinforce the belief that subway sleeper is a complete and total dick, undeserving of the privilege of a $2 ride on public transit.



I'm always torn as to how I want to deal with a subway sleeper. My reaction is directly proportional to my mood. If I feel as though I'd like to teach them a lesson, I usually consider placing my elbow just so and then suddenly jolting it up into their ribcage, all the while looking the other direction and feigning obliviousness. If I'm feeling rather mean, I like to learn forward in my seat and hope that when their head falls towards me, the sudden lack of another body next to them as support will cause their neck to suddenly snap, resulting in a temporary disability (not permanent! I'm not that cruel-minded).

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for falling asleep on moving transportation. I for one can be out within five minutes of boarding a plane, train or automobile. But it's all about sleep management. Keep your head down, centered over your body, and know your surroundings.

I'm just sayin'

Hot Time, Summer in the City

Today, as the thermometer climbed, and climbed, and climbed to cruel new heights, Mike and I decided it was time to figure out a pool plan for our summer lives. We've lived here nearly three years, it's time we knew where the hell we could go to take a dip.

Enter Google. Trusty, knowledgeable friend who always lifts you up and never lets you down. Or is that Bud Light? In any case, Google led me to discover a nice-looking public pool in nearby Long Island. Call me a snob but I just can't, I just won't, bring myself to go to a public pool in one of the boroughs.

So we hopped on the Long Island Expressway and - surprise!- it was a parking lot. As we crept along at 5 miles an hour I wondered if we would have been better off back on the couch. Soon enough though, the congestion cleared. Just your everyday, run of the mill 6 car pileup was holding up our pool progress. We soldiered on.

The pool was BIG, and so blue, and had diving boards! And lounge chairs! Mike kindly pointed out two chairs in the far corner. You know the shady spot that nobody wants? Well, that's the spot that I need. We set up our lounge area and all was fine and good until the gypsies showed up. Some shady looking Eastern Europeans asked if we could squeeze over a bit so they could fit their lounge chairs rightnextto us. We sneered. And then moved over.

Little by little the pool started filling up. Twenty different foreign languages could be heard floating through the air. I caught hairballs between my fingers while swimming a slow breaststroke across the width of the pool. A three hundred pound woman strolled into the pool in her itsy bitsy teeny weeny bikini.

We exchanged glances.
"Want to?"
"Yes, it's time," I replied. And off we went, back to the comforts of home.