Thursday, February 10, 2005

But He Stinks

Does this make me bad?

At my subway stop, you are forced to take an elevator down to subway level since the platform is so deep underground. As I was going through the turnstiles today, I noticed that the stank-ass hobo who oozes a near-visible stink was headed down to take up his usual spot on the bench in the station. There are three elevators, 2 of which work just about never. So I ran to the open elevator and, just before this obviously homeless, disheveled man was to get in, I pushed the close door button. I think he actually said "Thank you" (or possibly "Dag-u") in the mistaken belief that I was reaching to hit the "open door" button so that he could get on. Boy was he wrong. Anyway, door shuts in his face and I have a (relatively) stink-free 10 second ride down to the tracks.

Was that the wrong thing to do? There were other people in the car, most of whom use the station every morning. I heard no protests from them. Probably because they know that this gentleman's effusive odor is something beyond stink. It's not even worth cooking up some sort of analogy. But here's something: It's a very gusty station so when a Brooklyn-bound train steams into the station, it pushes this odor right in my face...and he sits on, or, actually, melts into, a seat at the far end of the station from where I wait for my train. So the 10 seconds in the elevator could have been life-threatening.

My one regret is not hearing him playing this morning from his electric guitar and singing nonsense lyrics at the top of his lungs. Actually, he just sounds like his gargling pebbles and tar and he points the neck of the guitar at passers-by, many of whom flinch. Plus, one time, as I was waiting for a train, he came up from behind and stuck his head up under my t-shirt. I need not tell you of the scabees epidemic that ravaged Brooklyn Heights that week. (OK, so he didn't do that, but the dude is fuckin' rank and I needed some more ammo to plead my case).

I'm not sure where this is going. But I do know where Joe Bum is not going: down to track-level with me in the elevator.

FYI: Ace is finally getting his shipment of tsunami-orphans this weekend, ostensibly for adoption but really for "touching."

4 Comments:

At 4:06 PM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

You bastard...I was keeping that low-key for tax purposes. Touching rocks.

 
At 10:30 PM, Blogger abby said...

It's official. You're a low down dirty rat bastard.

 
At 12:18 PM, Blogger poophopanonymous22 said...

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&category=18835&item=4071160010&rd=1&ssPageName=WDVW

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At 1:48 PM, Blogger Gypsy Rose said...

I agree Don. Smelly people, much like child molestors (as in Ace + Sri Lankin orphans = ...), relinquish certain rights.

What you were doing was just executing the subway/elevator protocol equivalent of Megan's Law.

Additionally, since reading your entry I can't stop singing Randy Newman's "Short People" while substituting "smelly" for "short." Soap is good, smelly people are bad. But you know. I weep for the homeless and all that crap too.

 

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