Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Hall Of Commuter D-Bags, Couples Edition

Reason #619 Why You Should Boycott the AARP 11/2
Originally uploaded by reallyct

I'd like to start out on a positive note: fellow commuters, I met your children this past week as they came by my house for candy. Defying all logic and expectation, they were the most well-mannered children I have encountered in some time. Without exception, each of them bid me a Happy Halloween, thanked me for my treats, and acquitted him of herself like a model citizen.

Which is what makes your (collective) commuter dbaggery so difficult to stomach. It's not that you don't know the difference between right and wrong, it's that you intentionally ignore it.

Take these two, definitely old enough to know better, people. They broke nearly every rule in the book from loudly talking on cellphones to using the seats as footrests.

I know, sometimes it's difficult: train, kitchen, kitchen train. They are so similar. And good for you, old dude, bucking convention by eschewing the traditional bagel/roll and coffee and instead choosing to pass your commute by gumming a hunk of chicken thigh on the bone, eating cottage cheese out of the container, and finishing it up by spooning what I'm pretty sure was hummus into your gullet. This way no innocent bystander could mistake your douchiness in assuming that a public train is merely an extension of your trough.

But you brought your wife, a charming woman who gabbed noisily on the phone and then spooned up her own cottage cheese. I'm pleased to see you came prepared for this eminently reasonable in-transit meal with a napkin you have artfully draped across your chest so that the masticated chicken bits don't mar your suit. I was less pleased to see you take that napkin, wipe your face with it, and then wad it up and put it ON THE SEAT IN FRONT OF YOU.

Quite frankly, I kind of hope you get herpes.

But lest you think I only hate old people, remember these two?

Dbag Marathon Edition, 11/1
Originally uploaded by reallyct

Love means never having to say you're sorry. Also: never having to move your ginormous bag from DSW, never having to consider a seat in a public train anything other than your footrest (shoes optional - remember, a train is very much like a living room, if your living room is on rails), and never having to modulate your voice as you have a moderately volatile conversation with your dad about whether or not you told Jody you'd be out in time to go out to dinner at Hibachi, and no, you didn't say you'd be there, you just said you'd be at the house in time for the Yankees game.

What made you two all the more entertaining was how perfectly suited you were to each other. Madam, when you got off the phone call so loud that people in the next car were privy to it, you proceeded to regale your fellah with the story of what had just transpired, just in case he had been temporarily deaf and hadn't heard your asinine conversation with your dad. And sir, ye who put your disgusting bare feet on the seat and snuggled with princess over there, you acted as though it was completely normal to have to listen to her play-by-play of a conversation you already sat through once. I applaud your love, and could only be more supportive of it were there some failsafe way to ensure you both become sterile RIGHT NOW. I'm thinking some form of radioactive ray.

1 comment:

  1. You should thank the train line. What would you write about if you didn't take the train?