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Confessions of a Fuck Up Artist
Mar. 25th, 2014 06:46 pmI don't care how many guys' asses you kicked, how much pussy you've tasted, how much you got in your wallet, bank account or portfolio. A real man doesn't sit in a packed train while a lady stands. Especially not one old enough to be our grandmother and barely keeping her balance with a cane.
Which is exactly what I told the young man with the tattoos, immaculate Atlanta Falcons baseball cap with the price tag still attached and a gold cross bright enough to signal Jesus with it on a sunny day dangling off a very expensive t-shirt that doubles as cloth billboard for expensive sneakers.
Of course he didn't hear me the first time as he was grunting along with the beats flowing from his headphones. So I tapped on the shoulder. He looks at me like I just blew him a kiss. I nod to the old lady standing next to me. He looks at her and then at me all like - 'What?'
So I motion for him to stand up.
Which is what he does if only to get in my face.
Alright, here we go, it's rush hour and all of a sudden shit's turned into an episode of the Wire.
He's still wearing the headphones when he asks me what my problem is.
Knowing he can't hear me I just moving my lips and gesticulating with the hand not holding on to railing. He looks confused and turns down his headphones while I slip into the middle of an imaginary conversation I was having.
"What'd you say?"
I look behind. Smile. Nod. Then looking back at him say - "Never mind."
"That's what I thought." He said, clearly a deep thinker, and goes to sit down only to realize that the old lady with the cane has swooped in behind us to take it.
Tough guy makes a face, but doesn't want to push the issue, muttering - "I was gonna give her my seat anyway."
"Making it a win-win, all around." I say giving that two finger salute off my temple I give to folks in public.
Next stop is me and from there it's a few block walk to the Contact's pad for Operation Reload. Which is good because I definitely needed a little something to take off the edge from standing up to those who refuse to give up their seats to their elders.
Which is exactly what I told the young man with the tattoos, immaculate Atlanta Falcons baseball cap with the price tag still attached and a gold cross bright enough to signal Jesus with it on a sunny day dangling off a very expensive t-shirt that doubles as cloth billboard for expensive sneakers.
Of course he didn't hear me the first time as he was grunting along with the beats flowing from his headphones. So I tapped on the shoulder. He looks at me like I just blew him a kiss. I nod to the old lady standing next to me. He looks at her and then at me all like - 'What?'
So I motion for him to stand up.
Which is what he does if only to get in my face.
Alright, here we go, it's rush hour and all of a sudden shit's turned into an episode of the Wire.
He's still wearing the headphones when he asks me what my problem is.
Knowing he can't hear me I just moving my lips and gesticulating with the hand not holding on to railing. He looks confused and turns down his headphones while I slip into the middle of an imaginary conversation I was having.
"What'd you say?"
I look behind. Smile. Nod. Then looking back at him say - "Never mind."
"That's what I thought." He said, clearly a deep thinker, and goes to sit down only to realize that the old lady with the cane has swooped in behind us to take it.
Tough guy makes a face, but doesn't want to push the issue, muttering - "I was gonna give her my seat anyway."
"Making it a win-win, all around." I say giving that two finger salute off my temple I give to folks in public.
Next stop is me and from there it's a few block walk to the Contact's pad for Operation Reload. Which is good because I definitely needed a little something to take off the edge from standing up to those who refuse to give up their seats to their elders.