We’ve all seen them.
The “cool kids” in their you-are-never-going-to-be-able-to-have-any-kids -if-you-keep-squeezing-your-nuts-into-those-jeans.
The I-direct-airplanes-at-JFK-in-my-spare-time headphones blaring some obscure Brooklyn band that has yet to be signed, with the top of their PBR tattoos just peaking out of their ironic t-shirts.
They are the one’s who stare down the “suits” at 7am, with their running shoes and scrunchie socks. They are the ones that block the doors as you are trying, oh so carefully, to step into the over crowded train.
They’re the ones that….Well…pull this stunt on a Tuesday morning rush hour train. (no joke)
Oh ironic Hipster. You have truly outdone yourself this time.
Note the hipster-cum-prepster blazer with the giant yellow crest? The tips of the argyle socks (um shoes??? What happened to his shoes?) And behold, the crowning glory–the awesomely ironic facial hair. Way to carry on the Hipster torch sleeping dude. Well. Played.
(Side note: This guy was most certainly not one of our city’s homeless folks who occasionally ride the train for comfort or warmth–his wallet with gobs of bills and coins, which continually fell to the floor, was bulging out of his too-tight pocket. That and the ipod cord draped across his chest were dead giveaways.)
Granted, it’s late–
and maybe you’ve had a bit too much to drink.
So you decide to take a cab home.
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” you think, casually hailing one from the nearest corner.
Off you go–to that nice warm bed.
Maybe you doze a bit. The cabby seems like he knows where he’s going so you let yourself close your eyes.
A few short minutes later, you’ve arrived at your destination.
Man, that was easy. Taking a cab is SO nice, especially on a night like this.
You casually hand over your credit card, ready for whatever the damage may be when you notice something strange.
Is that a magnifying glass?
Is he really reading his phone with a magnifying glass?
Courtesy Jeff D.
Let's watch TV and talk about sex on the way home!
See Dick and Jane.
Dick is drunk. Jane is too.
Dick wants to watch TV on Jane’s smartphone. Jane agrees.
They talk and yell loudly. They think that no one notices. It’s a late train headed for the ‘burbs.
Then Dick talks about how he’s going to get Jane pregnant, and how he can’t wait until they are married. (What are they like 12?)
He tells Jane how much pain she will be in. He says Jane will beg for an epidural. Dick tells Jane how awesome it will be.
Thank God Dick and Jane are planning on procreating. We need more people in this world just like them.
From Sean Haley
Reader Sean Haley sent this doozy in from his commute on the Staten Island railroad.
Sitting on the train, you are quietly reading your paper. When you are suddenly interrupted by this looker. She sidles over, alcohol wafting from her breath, giving you “the eye.”
And then you see it. The carefully concealed Budweiser can in her hand.
Hurriedly, you bury yourself deeper in your paper, hoping she didn’t catch you looking at her. That story on page 6 is looking mighty interesting right about now.
Then you look at your watch. Isn’t this your morning commute?
The economy must be looking up when the town drunk can commute with you at 7:40am.
Keep ’em coming Sean!