The G(ay) Train
Ah the G train, how I love thee! Like any loved one (or family pet) a number of nicknames have been lavished upon it by its patrons. The most common monikers for my subway line of choice are:
- The Gimp Train
- The Go Nowhere Train
- The Gone Train, and as I learned last night…
- The Gay Train
I had never honestly considered the sexual-orientation ramifications of riding the G. “Sex” and “G train” are, in my humble opinion, two concepts that should never EVER be mixed. Of course not everyone shares my opinion. That’s why:
- Two out of three subway masturbators I have encountered chose to beat their meat to the bleak of the Crosstown Local.
- One wifebeater clad felon saw fit to warn his homie about the “faggots” who patronize this line in (were else?) QUEENS.
My husband and I were returning from a wedding last night. It was a slow and congested slog from Corona, Queens to Court Square. We transferred to the G and waited. Thankfully, a chap came along and provided us a little preflight entertainment.
He bore an uncanny resemblance to Mike Piazza, albeit one laden with tattoos, arrest warrants and (perhaps) a restraining order or two. This (and him holding a copy of the King James Bible) made his excessive use of the word “nigga” all the more provocative— especially since his companion happened to be of African American extraction. What got “Mike’s” ball rolling was the arrival of the G train on the opposite platform.
Mike: Yo, check out that dude with the Mohawk. He’s fucking HARDCORE, nigga!
Traveling Companion: Heh, heh.
Mike: You don’t see dudes like that anymore. Look at these other people, they’re all faggots!
T.C.: Yeah, they’re taking over.
Mike: They can do what they want, but if one of them touches me in the shower I’ll slit his fucking throat.
The wedding vows my husband and I attended earlier this evening had a quote from Corinthians in it. That’s what the minister said, anyway. I wouldn’t know. Being an atheist, my husband has a pretty good command of the Bible so I turned to him and asked:
Is that from Leviticus?
He answered to the affirmative. Such is our life— fuck love, respect, commitment and all that slop. Our relationship is a low rent (but high wit) remake of Topper.
T.C.: Uh-huh. I have no time for that shit. I don’t care what they do as long as they keep me out of it. I got a wife and kids and shit.
Mike: Hey, I know that guy in the glasses over there! Hey nigga! What’s up?
(walks over to his bespecticled bud)
Mike: What’s UP? NIGGA!
Four Eyes: (indipherable)
Mike: Yo, I go in for sentencing on the 11th, nigga! I have another hearing at the same time. If I miss that one I’ll get six months.
I have never known what it is like to be so popular as to have scheduling conflicts. Even though my blog gets over 10,000 hits a day, I was not invited to be on the “diverse panel” of “Brooklyn Bloggers” who will be featured on the Brian Lehrer Show tomorrow morning (August 7th at 10:00 a.m.). As Dorothy Parker once said:
I’m never going to be famous. I don’t do anything, not one single thing. I used to bite my nails, but I don’t even do that any more.
I may not bite my nails but I do make telephone calls on occasion. In fact, I will be making one tomorrow. You can bet your sweet ass on that.