An imaginary conversation with a passive-agressive, subway riding fixed-gear biker

A dramatized "I should have said this"

(We are on the L train, around eight o clock on a weekday night. It's crowded. Two kids are standing with their bikes around the center pole by one of the middle doors of the car. Zach is standing, leaning over and talking with Justine, who is sitting. As the train pulls into the Bedford stop, Zach, followed by Justine, moves to the door in front of fixed gear kid #1, whom we will call Passive-Aggressive Pete. His friend will be Silent Sal.)

PETE: (Sarcastic) Oh, thanks a lot. Really cool.

ZACH: (Looking back, surprised) Sorry, dude.

(Everyone gets off the train. Imaginary part starts here.)

PETE: I don't think you are sorry. You totally just cut me off.

ZACH: You know what? No, I'm not sorry. The train was stopping and I didn't want to be stuck in a big rush of people behind a bike. So I moved into the empty space by the door, which was left completely open, so I could get off the train.

PETE: So fucking typical, with your fucking leather shoes and your laptop. Just because you're hurrying home to your fucking condo to watch tivo's of Big Love you think you have the right to step right in front of me and my friend, and all the people behind us trying to get off. God, what a prick you are.

JUSTINE: Hey now, asshole...

ZACH: (To Justine) Hold on a second. (To Pete) First of all, fuck you and your petty little sanctimony, you self-righteous needle-dick fixed-gear douche-eating bastard. I don't live here. Judging by how nice your bike is, I probably make less money than you. And as for condos and Big Love, I live in a fucking converted warehouse that leaks all over my bedroom floor when it rains, and I haven't owned a TV since mine got stolen out of my old Bushwick apartment. You wanna talk about me inconveniencing people? How about you and your buddy? Last time I checked, a bicycle was a mode of conveyance, not a goddamn lifestyle prop on the subway. You know how I get around town when I have a bike with me? I ride the bike. So to all the people who were behind you trying to get off, I'm sorry I didn't fully consider the ramifications of this guy's inconsiderate act before commiting my inconsiderate act.

(Passive-Aggressive Pete makes a look as if he is is considering trying to rip my head off, but restrains himself.)

SAL: (To Pete) Come on, man, let's go.

(They turn and walk away.)

PETE: (Over his shoulder) Fucking hipster yuppie. Go eat your designer pizza.

ZACH: (Calling out) Yeah, have fun pissing off everyone on the road. Hey, I think your pantleg's coming out of your socks. Oh, and you forgot your powdered wig!

(exit, Sal and Pete.)

JUSTINE: (making a stabbing motion) I'm gonna knife him.

So we're in practice last night at the Sweatshop, this dingy rehearsal space for unsigned bands and aspiring musicians. The sounds that come out of this place are really terrible - not excluding our own practice, I’m sure. In one of these late night practices Donnie is singing for this song "Two Dead Horses in the Road". He always mumbles his lyrics, but also I am famous for making up my own lyrics that completely distort the artists poetic meaning.

But to add to the problem . . . Donnie's voice is too quiet in the speaker (plus he can never decide how to phrase them). The real lyrics are as follows:

"And in my absence, you will find her"

But for the last 8 months we've been playing this tune and I always sing something completely different. I’m mouthing along the words and I realize I they are completely different. I've always heard:

"I leave my ass a your reminder"

Right then, I began to giggle with all of my inner-child. I know I have a third grader's sense of humor, but potty-talk never ceases to tickle me.

* * *

In Tall Cotton-- reviewed on thisisfakediy.com.

Check out this, from reviewer Lucia Hodgson, our new favorite person:

http://www.thisisfakediy.com/articles/albums/my-sister-in-1994-in-tall-cotton

window washer dream

last night I dreamt we were window washers

even in 2035 there were still windows to wash

we were doing this job
on these little ladders
hanging from the tip of the CNN tower

there were no ropes

and we had to wear these space gloves

'

Donnie was goofing off, doing one-handers and shit

I was like, “Donnie, you would die from this height”

right then he fell a quarter mile towards the city below

when he landed I was sure he was dead

but he got up

he puked and ran off between the buildings

I guess window washing isn’t as dangerous as people think