Holy fucking shit!
I’ll start from the beginning…
So I was on my way to see my bf Greg. He’s soooooo hot, and I was thinking I was totally going to let him get to 3rd base…maybe even go all the way! We’ve been going out for like 6 months and I think I’m kinda ready. Katie’s sister Heather (the one with the big boobs) said that it’s not even that big a deal and said it probably wouldn’t hurt that much if his thingie isn’t super big and OMG, she would know. She’s done it with, like, 5 guys, including Kevin from the soccer team WHILE he was going out with Lisa!!! She even showed me and Katie how to give a blow job! I can’t even imagine doing that – so gross! But Heather said it’s, like, the best way to get boys to like you (as long as you keep your teeth out of the way). Ew, whatever. I just hope my boobs start growing soon. Training bras are bullshit.
Anyway, so I get on the L train to go to Greg’s, and I’m sitting in the very last car near the back window. I may or may not have been very much under the influence of “nature’s medicine” (shut up, I have glaucoma). As we were pulling out of the station, I guess someone yanked the emergency brake because the whole train instantly lurched to a complete stop out of nowhere. Nobody knew what was going on, and all of a sudden some dude comes running through the car, lunges toward the back window, and starts screaming “yo! There’s a guy on the tracks! You hit him! He’s all smashed up!” Um, ew. Calamity ensues, and for some disgusting reason, all the people in the car dash to the window to check this shit out, loudly reporting unnecessarily graphic details to everybody who had the misfortune of being around. “Oh my god – there’s a piece of him right over there!” “He’s still alive! He’s wiggling!” “He got runned over! He’s cut in half!” I seemed to be literally the only person who had absolutely no interest in investigating something that would undoubtedly give me nightmares for the rest of my life, and I remained paralyzed in my seat with my head in my lap and my fingers in my ears singing “LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!” while I fought off the pukes and tried desperately to go to my happy place.
My initial thought was “I’m way too fucking buzzed to deal with this,” but needless to say, mellow was quickly harshed.
So people were obviously going totally batshit. That first guy who came barreling through the car kept yelling “let me the fuck out!” and eventually escaped through an open window. I guess he thought he was going to, like, sew dude back together on the spot and be a hero or something. They eventually opened the train doors and people started spilling out and going to get a closer look! Hipsters were whipping out their Holgas and Polaroids and iPhone cameras and giant Nikons swinging ’round their necks, literally clamoring for the money shot*. I mean, seriously – I can’t imagine wanting to do anything but run screaming in the other direction, but apparently I’m a weirdo or something. I’ve learned a lesson recently, and it’s that America fucking LOVES gore.
*(The first response my boyfriend had was that he “resented” this sentence, obvs because he is a photographer with a giant Nikon that is constantly dangling from his neck. But what he doesn’t understand is that what I described totally fucking happened and was actually true, no matter how much it reads as a dig on young, “cool” freelance photographers. Um, don’t take it personally, unless you happen to be the girl that I saw doing this.)
As the riders started filing out of the station (because that train wasn’t about to go anywhere for a long ass time), we all started conversing and piecing together what happened. Apparently there were two guys, one who was supes wasted, trying to switch cars. I guess the less-faced dude was having to almost carry lushie because his motor skills were very much impaired, and somewhere between the cars balance was lost, and, well…yeah. I thought I was traumatized until I talked to a chick who watched this go down, and she told me that peeps were all hating on ‘em right before IT happened because that guy was hammered and acting a fool. One minute everyone is giving him shit, the next minute, he be dead, yo. Now, everybody who’s ever used public transportation on a Friday night knows how annoying obnoxious drunk people are (especially if you happen to be sober), so we’re all guilty of giving the stink eye to sloppies – but seriously, can you fucking imagine?! Yeah. So the lesson here is be nice to your fellow wo/man, even if they’re stupid, because those people who were all “what an asshole!” are going to feel like shit for a long, long time.
This city is fucking insane.
Oh, and it took the cops, like, 15 minutes to get there, and the ambulance didn’t arrive until 5 minutes after the cops – like there are more pressing issues in Brooklyn than a guy who was dismembered. Jesus fucking Christ.
In short, I will never walk between train cars ever again. Those MTA “we’re serious about safety – your safety” posters may be poorly written and lack proper punctuation and use ugly models, but um, the point has been made. It turns out they are serious about safety!
Well, that’s it for tonight, Diary! TTYL!
Yours ’till Niagara falls,
Kendall
P.S. Greg and I totally went all the way! Home run! Actually, it was more like 17 home runs, winning the World Series, getting an endorsement deal from Nike, and landing on the Wheaties box (= anal).
3 Comments
April 20. 2009 at 11:06 am
beyond the shame I feel because of my fellow NYers… is that really how you get on the Wheaties box? Good for Bruce Jenner, I say.
April 21. 2009 at 6:02 am
Woah Jesus fucking Christ.
The first few lines I read I thought I’d smoked myself to psychosis or some shit. But negatory, I get jokes.
I just reckon it’s really rude of those people who were taking photos more than anything, as in, how would ya feel if it was yer mate who just got splatttered you know? There’s a time and a place for these things ya know…
plus I’m just big on having respect for the dead.
April 21. 2009 at 11:09 am
Nothing like respecting the dead. Though I understand the lack of response time: not to be insensitive, but it’s not like they’re going to save his life, are they?
About violence in movies, when did it become acceptable to show SKIN-PUNCTURING FRACTURES?! Seriously, that grosses ME out and I’m you’re average desensitized American male (though images on film of rape, human suffering [see the end of Requiem for a Dream], and stuffed animals being destroyed still make me want to cry. I know that the first two in real life still make me upset, I don’t tend to see the third, and I feel sort of like a dick for including it).