I hate the subway

Why are there so many crazy people on the subway?

Some fuck face hit my car in a parking lot and left a dent in it. AND, he or she or it didn't even have the goddamned good decency to wait around or leave a note or anything. Why I haven't unleashed hell, fire and brimstone on the world is beyond me. The best part about all of this is that I had to get a loaner to drive around while my car was at the automobile salon. The loaner they gave me smells like foot cheese, so I decided to take the subway. Now, I'm a magnet for crazy people and the subway is certainly no exception. Today I had a guy explain every combination of fast food from every fast food chain to me and how I could utilize this knowledge to spend the least amount of money and get the most amount of deep fried death. He also kept spitting into a cup every few minutes that worked wonders on my gag reflexes. I hate the subway. Everyone's a lunatic and they all find me. Over the past year alone, I've had some real winners. Here are just a few of the highlights:

Crazy Eating Apple Boy: Looked normal. Young. Dressed funky. Nothing out of the ordinary. Out of nowhere, starts hitting his head against the glass behind him. Yes, alarming. But then subdued. Only to start miming the act of eating an apple. What the fuck?

Crazy Winking Man: A same day occurrence. While Crazy Eating Apple Boy was doing his masochistic thing, Crazy Winking Man sat across from his staring at me and winking sporadically.

Crazy What Does Your Shirt Say Lady: I think this one is self-explanatory. I was accosted for about 10 minutes. The best part was, I was wearing a solid color with no writing on it.

Crazy Mike Tyson Look-Alike: Fresh addition to the list as this happened recently. He went on about studying to be a vet and how he recently helped deliver 12 baby snakes by C-section. Then he asked me if I thought he looked like Mike Tyson (the missing tooth added to the resemblance, but the fact that he was Indian was working against him). He then asked if we could hang out sometime. Naturally I agreed. I've already ordered the wedding invitations. I think I'll make a lovely bride.

Crazy German Lady: She had a piece of glass in her hand from a broken mirror which she was speaking through. Amazingly talented if not completely loco. A really annoying voice, a thick accent and stories about her daughter in the old country made the ride last forever. If I had to hear "Ach du lieber" mournfully expressed one more time, I swear I was going to kick the bejesus out of her. (Who knows, perhaps through some wild stroke of luck she would have turned out to be an ex-Nazi spy or something and suddenly I would have been a big super hero! Of course, then I would likely have had to deal with a few dozen super villains, all of whom having come into existence for no other reason than to annoy me).

Crazy Catching Invisible Flies With His Fingers Man: It could have been worse. Not wait...he had Turrets Syndrome. It couldn't have been worse.

Crazy When We Get Home Lady: The winner! A large black woman with nothing but a duffle bag sits diagonal from me. The train goes through a tunnel and when we come back into the light, I find she's locked eyes with me. Suddenly, she grips her bag, rises, staring at me and screaming, "When we get home, I'm gonna fucking kill you! I'm gonna fucking kill you when we get home!" Over and over and over again, while the other passengers thanked their gods that she didn't catch their eyes.

And the list goes on...

Please stop hitting my car.