So I guess the story begins two years ago at a NYC bar. It was my sophomore year and the girls and I decided to have a night in the city to kick back our heels, have a few drinks, and dance, dance, dance. I become relatively intoxicated and our large group of girls decide to split into two -- some wanted to stay overnight while my group decided to take a 5 a.m. train back to Fairfield.
I should have known my night was doomed when, as I lay my little head down on my friends lap in Grand Central, a large dollop of mustard from her pretzel fell in my fair. When our train finally arrived I couldn't wait to relieve my sore feet and rest my now mustard-stained head. It was an empty train so we all spread out in a few rows ready to sleep on the way home.
I'll remind you that, as stated before, I was relatively intoxicated. I say this in order to explain why, when two transvestites entered the train I sprouted up and began singing in a faux-falsetto voice "I'm looking at the man in the mirror, I'm asking him to make a chaaaanngee!" and so on and so forth. Needless to say the two men (or, I guess, women?) weren't very pleased and sat a few rows behind us. In any event, I giggled a bit, sprawled out on the empty row, and fell sound asleep.
But it didn't last long. Some time later I was suddenly disturbed by, what appeared to be, a large black woman. I was sleepy and thought she was screaming for my ticket and sat up to open my wallet. But she just kept screaming and then she began to hit me on my shoulder! "MOVE!" she kept hollering until she climbed over me and snagged the window seat of MY row! Please keep in mind the train was empty and why, out of all the seats, she had the have the one that the sore feet of a sleeping blond girl were resting on is still beyond me. So I moved for the wench, thought the worst was over, and fell asleep sitting up.
Then, suddenly, I was woken up a second time to "MOVE MOVE MOVE!" What in the hell was wrong, I didn't know. But as I opened my sparkling blue eyes, I saw the monster bent over me again, trying to get by and hitting me on my arm. A sharp pang of terror swept over me. The woman out sized me by at least 100lbs so I didn't fight back but stood up in the aisle and she followed behind. This is where it begins to get blurry. I just remember trying to walk down so she could go when all of the sudden, she pushed against me screaming for me to move faster and the next thing I know, I'm face down on the floor of the Metro North. Boy did this really piss her off! She began kicking me until I crawled into a random row so she could get by. The ogre ran past and, just as she was about to exit the train, turned back at me and hollered some obscenities that included the F bomb and the B word. My friends and I sat in absolute shock. Still drunk, but in shock.
And as we sit there, mute, what can be heard in the background?? Slight snickering from behind us. I turned my head, still shell-shocked only to see the two transvestites laughing in the glory of my pain.
And that is my Man in the Mirror story.
The End
I should have known my night was doomed when, as I lay my little head down on my friends lap in Grand Central, a large dollop of mustard from her pretzel fell in my fair. When our train finally arrived I couldn't wait to relieve my sore feet and rest my now mustard-stained head. It was an empty train so we all spread out in a few rows ready to sleep on the way home.
I'll remind you that, as stated before, I was relatively intoxicated. I say this in order to explain why, when two transvestites entered the train I sprouted up and began singing in a faux-falsetto voice "I'm looking at the man in the mirror, I'm asking him to make a chaaaanngee!" and so on and so forth. Needless to say the two men (or, I guess, women?) weren't very pleased and sat a few rows behind us. In any event, I giggled a bit, sprawled out on the empty row, and fell sound asleep.
But it didn't last long. Some time later I was suddenly disturbed by, what appeared to be, a large black woman. I was sleepy and thought she was screaming for my ticket and sat up to open my wallet. But she just kept screaming and then she began to hit me on my shoulder! "MOVE!" she kept hollering until she climbed over me and snagged the window seat of MY row! Please keep in mind the train was empty and why, out of all the seats, she had the have the one that the sore feet of a sleeping blond girl were resting on is still beyond me. So I moved for the wench, thought the worst was over, and fell asleep sitting up.
Then, suddenly, I was woken up a second time to "MOVE MOVE MOVE!" What in the hell was wrong, I didn't know. But as I opened my sparkling blue eyes, I saw the monster bent over me again, trying to get by and hitting me on my arm. A sharp pang of terror swept over me. The woman out sized me by at least 100lbs so I didn't fight back but stood up in the aisle and she followed behind. This is where it begins to get blurry. I just remember trying to walk down so she could go when all of the sudden, she pushed against me screaming for me to move faster and the next thing I know, I'm face down on the floor of the Metro North. Boy did this really piss her off! She began kicking me until I crawled into a random row so she could get by. The ogre ran past and, just as she was about to exit the train, turned back at me and hollered some obscenities that included the F bomb and the B word. My friends and I sat in absolute shock. Still drunk, but in shock.
And as we sit there, mute, what can be heard in the background?? Slight snickering from behind us. I turned my head, still shell-shocked only to see the two transvestites laughing in the glory of my pain.
And that is my Man in the Mirror story.
The End
