When I see tourists on the subway I like to create their lives in my head. On Monday I was staring at an eastern European woman no more than thirty years old. I have a sixth sense that enables me to pick out what region someone is from with incredible accuracy. What gave this one away? Maybe it was her blonde hair, acne scars, poor dentistry, misplaced birthmarks, pre-cold war Minnie Mouse sweatshirt, actually I think it was her Croatian flag earrings.
The poor woman had a ton of luggage on her person; so much luggage that I wondered how she got through those narrow turnstiles. The luggage itself was fire engine red, shiny plastic, and wrapped in saran wrap. If suitcases wrapped in saran do not scream tourist, then quite frankly Malcolm X wasn’t black. All in all, I am giving our new friend an A for effort, but clearly she should have taken a cab so a B for overall execution. Now that I’ve observed my subject, the real fun begins.
Viktoria Rajlomanovich is a twenty-seven year old graduate student at NYU’s School of Anthropology. She has been fascinated by encephalopods ever since she was a young girl. Her obsession with all things squid started on her family’s farm outside of Sarajevo. While milking the cows one morning, she notices an oddly shaped jagged crack in one of the floorboards. She stops milking Darla and begins to pry at it, but to no avail. She catches sight of a tiny bronze ring not far from where she is kneeling. The ring is slightly buried in dung and Viktoria brushes it away. While she brushes, she calmly notices that this wasn’t just a cracked floorboard this is a trap door! She pulls up on the ring, unlatches the catch, and cautiously makes her way down a creaky ladder. As her feet touch the ground. Viktoria coughs hard from the stale air and mountains of dust. Through the limited light allowed by the floorboards she can make out an incredibly large flat piece of slate before her. Viktoria approaches the rock cautiously and sees the fossilized remains of a very large squid with wings and Reeboks. She remembers that the end of the Triassic epic was marked by water receding off of the Balkans …………
My imagination grinds to a simultaneous halt with the 6. We hit Grand Central and a shitload of people are pushing and shoving to get on the train. Viktoria is now scrambling to make space for the sudden flood of humanity by hugging the luggage around her. I let out a barely audible chuckle, but nothing was about to prepare for what came next. A slightly older middle-aged New York woman is wedged between a Mexican construction worker and an I-Banker type. Viktoria gets up as if to offer her seat to said woman, the woman basically gives her a “fuck you I’m standing” look. Viktoria insists, the New York woman gives her an “ok now you’re embarrassing me, I am way too young for you to be giving me your seat you tourist bitch” look. The face-off ensues for what feels like three minutes, each woman standing her ground. It is only resolved when the train jolts forward at full bore and Viktoria is launched like a rock from a slingshot. The New York woman gives her a “serves you right for showing me up” look; I am impressed with her consistency. I feel bad for Viktoria; Kosovo getting their independence must have been a swift kick in the nuts.
The real story is not my ridiculous imagination or ethnic Albanians. Our story begs the question: When it is appropriate to be polite, and when you should mind your own business? As a Gumptioneer it is my charge to make sure you are prepared to deal with any situation you encounter. So in order to make sure you are not the victim of an embarrassing seat offering situation, I have developed the follow guidelines.
· Hair: If you are offering your seat to someone, please for god sakes make sure their hair is completely white or they are completely bald. Please understand that this is not up for interpretation. A good rule of thumb: “If you’re rockin’ salt and pepper you might as well be Mr. Hot-Stepper”. Getting old is a sensitive subject and Viky’s first mistake was to offer a move reserved for an eighty year old to a fifty year old. To you that might not be a big difference, but it’s probably the age difference between you and your parents. I don’t know about you, but I would never give up a rush hour subway seat to my parents. Love ya Mom!
· Gate: The person in question must have some mobility issues, and I’m not talking about the same ones as Mel Kiper, Jr.. Generally I prefer an unintentional rendition of the Jabbawockeez or a hunchback of Notre Dame walk-alike. To add, if the person has a movement aid like a walker or cane I will stand, with one exception. Pimp canes are not grounds for me to get up. YEAH, WHAT? If you were really such a pimp you’d be riding in a limo you fucking poser. Bottom line, if the person is walking upright without a cane, don't give up your seat.
· Women: Ok so you think I’m going to write something really nice here about giving up your seat for a hot woman or a mom with seven kids. Nah, fuck that. Cruel? Maybe. Sexist? Doubtful. How can you be so obtuse? The day that a woman asked to start being treated like a man is the day chivalry died. You can’t have equality, minus the whole equality thing. “Yeah I should make as much as you, do everything that you do, AND you should still hold the door for me”. Seriously? I am your equal not your indentured servant. The following few lines are fact not opinion. The reason chivalry existed was because woman had a lonely and relatively silent life. They were considered inferior in everyway and not even afforded the chance to learn. Chivalry was born out of pity more so than courtesy. The least a man could do for a lady was to be pleasant while courting or in public. However, now that you have the exact same rights as me, you do not get the same special treatment. If you’re my equal, don’t expect more than common courtesy. Oh and I’m not done, lady with seven kids, it was your choice to turn your mini-donut into a hula-hoop. Your lack of ability in the prophylactics department is your cross to bear, not mine. Sorry.
· Wrinkles: A must have and not just a few around the eyes. I was watching the Westminster Dog Show a few weeks ago, and this bullet point reminded me of that. The person’s face should resemble that of the Neapolitan Mastiff (pictured). Enough said.
In closing, if the person in question looks they’ve ventured too far from an assisted living facility, get the fuck up. Otherwise you are free to relax and enjoy your time aboard New York City’s favorite mode of public transportation. I’m Teddy Jones and you can catch me transferring at 53rd Street as well as at The Gumption.
No comments:
Post a Comment