[life] People

So we were in Subway at about 11:30 last night, after an extended attempt on Shawn's part to teach me Magic: The Gathering resulted in me burning the crap out of my (already late as hell) supper and my blood sugar hitting the basement. The idea of trying to make anything else nearly made me cry, so we ventured out into the wilds of Friday Night. To put this into perspective, we live in a neighborhood that features bars, restaurants that stay open until 4 AM, and a small army of panhandlers, squeegey kids, wannabe gangsters and goths.

So we're in the Subway. Some dude with that borderline "I'm not thirty, but only by an act of will" sort of face and a beat up skateboard was waiting in line, macking on the poor "sandwich artist," me (slightly) and some fifteen year old who came into the place cradling her cut and bleeding hand. She obviously needs to wash it, or something, but instead gets into line.

I'M NOT THIRTY YET, WANNA GET BUSY: (definately not looking at her hand) Dude, how'd you do that? Are you high?

BLEEDING GIRL: I fell down on some glass. I'm not high. (giggle)

INTYWGB: Are you drunk? Do you take drugs?

BG: Not right now.

INTYWGB: Do you take drugs?

BG: (desperate attempt to sound nonchalant) Sometimes.

INTYWGB: What drugs have you taken?

BG: Pot, shrooms, acid...

INTYWGB: Are you taking any tonight? Do you want some?

MY HUSBAND: (unable to remain silent any more) Are you bleeding? Shouldn't you go to the bathroom and wash that?

BG: I need the key.

MH: (wordlessly hands her the key, not two feet from her face on the counter)

BG: Oh. (giggle)

She takes the key, goes off. Two seconds later, another poster child for "Do you know where your kid is right now?" comes in, gestures vaguely at her hand, and is directed toword the bathroom where her wounded companion is administering whatever first aid can be found in a fastfood restaurant bathroom.

INTYWGB: (to me) Oh, fuck, did you see that?

ME: See what?

INTYWGB: Here come the Borg.

Two Goth girls enter the Subway. MH steps firmly between me and the mackdaddy. The Goths pass by us and get in line. IMTYWGB is heard to mutter under his breath, freaks.

INTYWGB turns to the girl behind the counter.

INTYWGB: Hey, remember me? I remember you, you're Marissa. Remember my name?

SANDWICH ARTIST: No, but I remember you coming in this morning.

I cannot imagine having to work from the AM to midnight AND be faced with the prospect of having to talk to this guy more than once.

INTYWGB: You don't remember my name? Do you remember falling in love with me this morning?



Yikes.