5AM Tangent

It is 5:16 in the morning and insomnia has decided that I shouldn't sleep at all today, so here I am. I initially came on to put up that Gremlin picture which is my new default "I Aint Write Nothin" placeholder, but then I said to myself, "Well, you can write something. Pick anything." Two things about writing when you're sleepy. It's either boring as hell, or long as hell. If you go back through some of my old posts, I'm certain you can determine which were written on a full tank, and which were a cry for Ambien.

So honestly, you can stop reading now. Go on about your day. Earn that paycheck! Maybe you're not at work yet. You could be reading this from your phone on the subway. To that I say, "Are you out of your damned mind? You do know that they're robbing people on the train, right?"

Speaking of trains...Remember the dudes who used to sell stuff on the train? It was always batteries and deodorant. I don't know where the hell they were getting them from. It'd be some big ass 59-batteries-in-a-pack box and the dude would say, "Well I can let you have it for three dollars." They were always knock off duracells. "Powercell!" If not that, then there was that black dude that used to walk around Gallery Place with the camouflage backpack selling Backyard P.A. tapes. "What's up Young. I got dat 9-15 Back or the 9-12 Junk. Five dollars."

Nobody had it on lock like the metro queen who used to sell those damned M&Ms for her church. It was a heavyset lady in a coat and hat who was always selling them. I remember trying to sell some Snickers for my track team and she walked up like she was about to shoot my ass for being on her turf.

So yeah, back to the train. What's up with the people who think they can surf the train? Packed train. Rush hour. There's always that one person who thinks that they don't need to hold on to anything. They'll just ride the wave of the train. Then the train jerks to a stop, they almost fall, and the person they bump into looks like they're debating whter or not to slap em. But not slap em as bad as you wanna slap the people who get on and try to put their bag in the seat beside them during rush hour and then act like they don't hear you when you ask them to move it. The Southeast Secret is to just flop down real hard on their purse and hope to crack anything fragile inside.

Speaking of fragile. Tourists, please hold your kid's hand when you get inside the subway. It used to bother me, but I've pretty much become numb to the sight of a four year old kid standing on the edge of the platform looking down into the trackbed. I'm at the point now where I wanna yell out, "That's where part of you will land when the train comes through and hits your bad ass."

It is now 5:33 and I have no idea what in the hell I am talking about. If you're still reading this...wow. Must be a slow day at work. It is Monday. That's the day when most people do their best pretending. You half type a document and leave it up so that you can click on it if somebody important comes by. Well, that's what most people do. There's always those unfortunate folks who sit right next to their supervisor or they're on the aisle where people walk by, so they have to always look busy.

Back to this train thing. Why in the hell is Metro charging a dollar for paper farecards now? Y'all can't even manage to go a weekend without having to shut down five or six stations for "track maintenance" and yet you have the audacity to ask me for extra money.

Final thoughts?
I secretly root for the train doors to close before that person full of hope gets to the bottom of the elevator.
I often have to talk myself out of bulldozing the tourists standing on the left side of the elevator.
Instead of putting a bag beside me, I try to look menacing, or crazy (pretend to talk to myself) so that no one will sit next to me.
I get really excited inside whenever I successfully guess where the doors are going to stop on the platform, yet I play it off like it didn't mean anything to me.

Final final thought?
It is 5:43. I'm going to sleep.