The 5 People You Meet on the Subway

There’s no denying that New York City is the capital of diversity. You meet people from all walks of life in this grand city. But, somehow, even though there is an endless ebb and flow of people coming into this city, you will always meet the same five people on your subway commute.

The Makeup Artist: This person is a true talent. They are not phased by the constant bumping around and jolting starts and stops of the train. Liquid eyeliner remains perfect regardless of the turbulence. Watching this person transition from sleepy, makeup-free everyday commuter to stunning, contoured supermodel is actually amazing. They literally walk off of the train an entirely new person – from drab to fab. This person is a master of contouring and – if space is an issue – of contortion. They are able to apply their flawless faces in the smallest and most inconvenient of spaces.

The Narcoleptic: This person is the envy of many, as they can sleep anywhere and everywhere. This person however, can take many shapes – from the exhausted graduate student, to the overworked parent, to the homeless man laying on the floor. The Narcoleptic knows no single form. This person can sleep through absolutely anything and they fall asleep in the most uncomfortable positions. And that’s uncomfortable for everyone. They have no qualms for letting their head dangle to and fro and, possibly even on your shoulder, if you ride with them long enough. Though this person can be in the deepest of slumbers, they , somehow, never miss their stop. Teach me your ways.

The Multi-Tasker: This person can be found reading, listening to music, keep up on social media, studying, texting, and emailing all during the same commute. Never missing a beat or letting one minute go to waste, this is the modern-day Renaissance Person. They do more in one train ride than I can get done in an entire day. Fun Fact: this person is also the most fun to creep on while enduring your daily commute.

The Oblivious One: This person is so focused on their phone or book that the entire city could come crumbling down around them and they would have no idea. This person will almost always have headphones in, listening to the latest podcast or underground album. Almost always in the form of a Millennial and does. Not. Look. Up. Ever. No interaction with another human. This is our future, people!

The Musician: This person is not to be confused with the actual performers who interrupt your morning commute. This “performer” has their headphones on and their voices loud, as they are actively singing along to their favorite artists. For all to hear. Whether you want to or not. They think they are that good. They’ve mastered all of their favorite’s moves and can be seen watching themselves kill it in the smudged reflections of the windows of the train. They’re giving it all they’ve got – hoping to be discovered by Simon Cowell. Sorry guys, Simon travels by private car.

Special appearances can be made by: A homeless man sleeping on four open seats, a person begging for money, a break-dancing group that almost kicks you in the face five times, and a mariachi band. Welcome to New York!

 

 

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There Are Worse Things Than Saying “Fuck”

It is the belief of most English speakers that of all of the “bad” words, “fuck” is as bad as it gets. I come from a place that believes in “bad” words very much. As a child, I just knew that saying certain words would get me in trouble (and possibly get me a one-way ticket to Hell) and so, by association, they were considered “bad”. Growing up, having life experiences, and majoring in English has broadened my beliefs about this topic. It is now my belief that a word is only “bad” if we, as the speakers, use it in an aggressive way. What is so “bad” about saying that something is “really fucking great!”? Isn’t that a positive a statement? This is something that I’ve been struggling with for some time now.

I carefully monitor my vernacular when I’m around specific people, to cater to everyone’s personal preferences. Day-to- day, with my friends, who are like-minded, I will let the occasional “bad” word fly. Especially if it’s to serve the purpose of comedy or to emphasize extreme emotion. However, as an adult who does not fall on the Autism spectrum, I also am fully aware that these “bad” words are not always appropriate. There is a time and place to use such language. For example, I would never go into a meeting at work and, when asked what the general feedback from our community is, respond with “Well, they’re all fucking pissed about these new promotion code rules.” Nor would I ever greet my parents by walking into their house and saying “Waddup Motherfuckers?!”. Although, I think that would be hilarious, I know that would greatly offend them. So I don’t do it.

Call me self-righteous, but I think that’s pretty decent of me and that I’m using language in the correct and not offensive way. Though, I am fully aware of people who legitimately believe that using this words, regardless of your audience, is one of the most capitol offenses. But, I’m here to tell you that there are way worse and more offensive things than saying “fuck”. Here is a short list of some things that I was able to come up with:

  1. Murder – This one seems a bit obvious to me.
  2. Rape – Again, a no-brainer.
  3. Racism – The word “fuck” is super unbiased and can be used by anyone of any race.
  4. War Lords – I suppose this one could be grouped with murder.
  5. Adolf Hitler – He didn’t use the word “fuck” in any of his speeches and look how that turned out.
  6. Adultery – In some cases, taking the word a little too literally, if you ask me.
  7. Global Warming – Contrary to some people’s belief, this is a real thing that affects people much more than saying “fuck”.
  8. Public transportation in NYC – The cause for many people to say “fuck”, but definitely way worse than the act of saying it.
  9. Donald Trump – There’s not really anything worse than this guy. He should probably be first on this list.
  10. Lena Dunham – I just find her incredibly annoying and I would love to take her bra shopping one day, since she clearly has some trouble with finding one.

 

“Why Don’t You Smile, Beautiful?” An Open Letter

Dear Male Stranger,

Hi. You don’t actually know me. I think that you may be confused about this fact. I know that we see each other every day, but do not mistake this quasi-interaction for an actual one. I am, of course, assuming that you’re confused by this. I’m assuming that you’re confused because that’s the only logical reason I can think of that you could feel the need to speak to me.

You seem to be under the impression that I want or need you to address me daily. I’m sure it’s me though, right? I’m definitely giving off the vibes that I’m only here for you. I long for you to compliment my legs when I wear a dress. I purposefully wear shirts that aren’t 12 sizes too large, and that show off my shape so that you can stare at me, as I walk by. That’s just for you. I live for the days when you remind me to “smile baby, you’re beautiful.” I truly don’t know where I would be without that little reminder. And when you see me walking your way and then wait until I’m within earshot and you creepily whisper “God bless you, Mami” I do feel a little closer to the Lord.

Maybe I am being ungrateful for these compliments that you bestow upon me on a day-to-day basis. Welp, be that as it may, I need to you to stop. Honestly, I need you to leave me the fuck alone. I need you to understand that I am a woman and that a woman is a human being, not an object for you to ogle. I need you to understand that these “compliments” that you say so lovingly every day are not compliments. I need you to understand that that’s considered sexual harassment. I need you to understand that it’s not wanted and that it’s not OK. I need you to, somehow, grasp that idea that I dress the way I do and fix my hair and put makeup on for myself, not for you. Not. For. You.

So, the next time I walk past you on the street, I ask that you keep you eyes and your words to yourself. I promise to do the same. Because I don’t know if I can roll my eyes any further to the back of my head to let you know that I want nothing to do with you. I don’t know how to let you know that this is not how you speak to another human being. I don’t know how to tell you that you make my skin crawl and that I’d rather eat a live subway rat than acknowledge whatever bullshit that has just come out of your mouth.

So, the next time we pass each other on the street, do your part in making the world a better place and please, for the love of humanity, just shut the fuck up.

 

Thank you,

Concerned Female Citizen

 

 

 

 

You’re the Reason Why I Hate You

Last week was a weird week. It was weird for a few reasons but, one of the main reasons was that I agreed to meet a guy that I met on Tinder. To some, this is already a weird scenario. Meeting someone you don’t know?! Isn’t that dangerous?! In this day and age!? Yes. Yes, bad things can always happen. But, my general rule of thumb is that if you don’t look like I can easily overpower you in a physical altercation, I’m not interested in you. This makes meeting strangers much safer.

It began, as all things do on Tinder, with a right swipe. This guy was extremely attractive and way out of my league. I say that because, being part of the online dating scene has really helped me to understand my demographics. In all honesty, I do pretty well for myself, but there are always those one-off situations when you’re pretty sure they were drunk when they swiped because there’s no other logical explanation for what’s happening. Anyway, apparently we were both drunk and swiped right and got that inspiring “You’re a Match!” message, that brings the promise of a new beginning with your future ex-boyfriend/girlfriend. I was expecting, however, for that to be the end of it. For me, I would say about 90% of my matches end at that. People are just matched and never reach out. I NEVER reach out because I’m a lady. And I always say something weird that I think is funny but that, literally, never gets a response. But, the next day, this guy sent me a message.

Right off the bat, I was suspicious of this character because, in his very first message he called me beautiful and used the heart eyes emoji. I immediately assumed I was being cat-fished by the girl who used to live next door to me in elementary school, who I was mean to. I just knew she had found me, somehow, and was plotting her revenge. But, I remained hopeful and I messaged the guy back. Trust me, if you saw this guy, you’d be hopelessly hopeful too. We continue messaging and the entire time he keeps complimenting me. Like everything about the way I look. And there were so many emojis. All of it seemed too good to be true, but I kept messaging him and agreed to meet him the next day after work.

I was telling a friend, who is a romantic, about all of this and she was excited for me. She said that I was ridiculous for thinking that he was a catfish and “of course you’re beautiful” blah blah blah. We decided that because he was so attractive and was so focused on what I looked like that he was, probably, very boring and that I would totally have the upper hand in our future relationship. She’s a good friend. She eased my mind and helped me to get excited for my super casual after work drink date thing.

The next day, I very carefully planned out my look. Something that was flattering and showed off my best assets without being slutty and looking like I was trying to hard. I decided on the perfect black dress that was ideal for work and happy hour. All throughout the day, at work, I had a hard time focusing because I was so excited. Again, did I mention how good-looking this guy was? We messaged throughout the day and said how excited we were to meet each other. It was kind of gross, to be honest.

Finally the time had come to meet. We had decided to meet at the Chambers St. subway stop that was between both of our offices, and then we would go to a bar. My manager made me swear to text her as soon as we sat down, so that she would know where I was in case I got abducted. After I promised her about five times that I’d keep her updated, we parted ways and I went to the intersection. He messaged me earlier that he was running late because of a meeting. No problem, I’m an adult with a smartphone; I would be fine to wait. He messaged me again saying that he was on his way. Awesome, this will be great. We agreed to meet at 6:45 and so I was there waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

7:00- “Maybe he’s on the subway now, so he doesn’t have service.”

7:05- “Man, this guy is really late. This is kind of annoying.”

7:10- “This is the absolute worst thing ever and I think I’m just going to jump in front of this bus.”

7:15- I check my phone to send him a message and ask if he’s alive. When I refresh my page I see that HE HAS UNMATCHED ME AND HAS DISAPPEARED FROM MY ENTIRE LIFE.

Are you kidding me? Like, are you fucking kidding me?! Did this just happen!? Did I just get stood up on a blind Tinder date?! Did I just type that sentence? I can’t even describe the amount of sheer rage that was inside of me, at that point. I have never been so furious at a stranger before. And I live in NYC and take public transit regularly.

On the subway ride back to my neighborhood, I went over everything in my head and how I knew it had been a joke the whole time. As far as I could tell, one of two things had happened: he had shown up at the intersection, saw me, and decided that I wasn’t that “gorgeous” after all. Or, he’s the kind of person who never had any intention of meeting me, in the first place, and was just sitting on his couch watching anime porn the entire time. Either way, he’s an asshole who purposefully made a decision that hurt another human. He caused me to doubt myself when I have absolutely no reason to do that. I know that I am a smart, funny, kind, attractive person and I do not need validation from a stranger to know that. But, in that moment I did and it killed me.

Once I got back to my neighborhood, I decided to stop by my favorite bar, where some friends were hanging out. I told them what happened and the bartenders, who I also know, immediately poured me my favorite drink. I stayed for a while and ended up having a really great night. When we left the bar, our stomachs hurt from laughing so hard so, in the end, everything was fine and I am so thankful for the wonderful people in my life. But you better believe that I have that guy’s face seared in my brain and if I ever run into him, I’m going to punch that motherfucker right in the throat.

 

 

Dating Resume

I have recently started trying to find true love, once again, with the help of Tinder. Just kidding. I have started using Tinder again, but it’s not to find true love. It’s because I’m bored, honestly. And now that I’m back to spending all of my time in Manhattan, after a six month period of insanity, I have more time to do fun things and, as my mother would say, “meet someone interesting”.

I’ve been back on the app for a grand total of three full days and this time I’m 100% not taking anything seriously. This is purely a way to pass the time. So far, though, I must say that it has been a positive experience. One message that I got did get me thinking. His opening line was: That’s quite the Tinder profile resume. What an interesting thing to say. Then, I got to thinking and agreed that your online dating profile is, essentially, a dating resume. But what if it was to be done in the same way as a job resume?
Hopeful Applicant
firstname.lastname@email.com
Objective: To find someone who doesn’t suck and who will agree to having consensual sex with me on a regular basis until we, either break up or get married.
Special Skills: Listening, making out, pretending to like sports, humor, knowing the best take-out spots, that thing you like (you know that thing), intelligent conversations, wears low-cut shirts, witty comebacks, karaoke, sleeping with you on the first date
Previous Experience:
Ex-Boyfriend 1
November 2014-May 2015
  • Communicated daily about current events.
  • Remained non-envious of friends that are girls.
  • Encouraged him to follow his dreams and get a Masters’ Degree.
  • Harbored no negative feelings after breakup.
Ex-Boyfriend 2
January 2010-April 2012 (intermittently)
  • Manipulated him with sexual favors.
  • Watched dumb movies and played dumb video games with false enjoyment.
  • Argued about moral beliefs and musical preferences constantly.
  • Expanded sexual repertoire.
Ex-Boyfriend 3
June 2006-January 2008
  • Shared similar interests in almost everything.
  • Communicated daily, though living in different states.
  • Happily engaged with all of his friends and family.
  • Exchanged thoughtful gifts whenever necessary.
  • Aided in cheating on new girlfriend, knowingly.
  • Gained a considerable amount of baggage and trust issues.
After reviewing my own dating resume, I came to the indisputable conclusion that it is definitely a good thing that we do not have to upload these for everyone to see. You have to really be willing to put in the work with people before unloading all of their dirty laundry.