Thursday, February 28, 2008

I Feel Violated

Ok, a lot to talk about today. I have halfassed this thing for two weeks now, so I think I owe you folks a real post. First up, I'll discuss what happened to me on the subway today. I was accosted by a homelessman.

And not just a stranger, doo-wop singing, fake charity subway homelessman. This is a homelessman that haunts the Ditmars station on the NW line.



He is usually located by the Eastern exit stairs. From what I've seen of him at the station, he has two basic moves that have cemented his success at being a homelessman. First is the 'stand completely still and stare at the backs of your outstretched hands.' This one is presumably a resting technique thought up to counterbalance the more impressive and energy-consumptive 'rock back and forth whilst shaking your hands in front of you and muttering indeterminate tones.'

I guess I'm saying he's probably not all there.

Anyway, I had an outside-of-station experience with him about a month or so ago, when I was in the supermarket. I do sometimes go there, oddly. Anyway, I was perusing the canned goods when I became aware of A) an object in the very extremes of my periphery, B) an atypical-for-a-supermarket odor and 3) my Spidey-sense buzzing. I turned to find our friend standing silently, staring at me. Full eye contact sort of staring. I assumed that whatever conversation was going to happen would most likely have to be initiated by yours truly.

"Can I help you?" I asked, using my vocal inflectionary talents to transform the words from their literal meaning into "Go cram yourself up yourself."

He seemed to understand my drift, and responded by averting his gaze to the ground, shaking his head and scurrying off. I stood for a few seconds in his fetid air wake, wondering just who in the past had rewarded him for such behavior. I shrugged the event off, pushed it back in my memory and continued shopping.

Flash forward to today, this morning.

I was commuting, cruising down the tracks on a crowded W train. As is the advantage of being the first station, I had gotten a seat and was traveling comfortably in my "train position." Backpack between my legs with my hands intertwined through the top loop, head back, eyes closed, drifting through stage one sleep.

Anyway, things are going fine, the train is crowded, but hey, it's commuting. Then I feel pressure on my knees. I became aware of 1) my dreaming had abruptly halted 2) the train is below 42nd street, so it shouldn't be crowded enough to force such contact and C) my Spidey-sense buzzing.

I crack my eyes to see a pair of legs topped by a filthy Yankees jacket TOUCHING MY KNEES WITH THEIR KNEES.

This is not done. Neurons fired, identification was made and the gag reflex was suppressed. I swiveled my eyes upwards into one of my better glares. Here's my attempt to artistically recreate it for you using Microsoft Paint:


that's about right.

Remembering him run after our last encounter, I repeated my opening gambit.

"Can I help you?"

Maintaining the eye and knee contact, he shook his head. "Wily bastard," thought I. He'd clearly been training. Fine, I've got some tricks of my own.

"Please don't touch me." This I delivered with the cold verbal rage of a captive Charlton Heston.



This did it. He again shuffled away, defeated. I had proven victorious, but at the price of a subway nap. Also, I was forced to use a line that would be completely at home in every Lifetime Original Movie ever made. Perhaps the most unsettling aspect was that he had learned. The second encounter took twice as long as the first. I must now dwell in constant fear of the third.

(and scene)

I've other business to get to as well. More pictures of Alissa Rev at the bottom of the post, but first:


Congratulations to J&J, the latest winners in the "Spend a Night in Rev's Apartment" lottery. Those interested in playing should contact me via the comment board or my cell or find one of my various email addresses.

J&J were spending some time in NYC before catching a plane to San Francisco. We went to brunch at Fatty's Cafe. It was delicious. Oh yes, they are also the adoptive parents of Maya, who has been featured here before and will be again:



While they were here, they saw Spring Awakening, featuring the lovely Phoebe Strole and that bastard Jonathan B Wright. J's sister was good enough to unwillingly pose for a picture in the same frame as a cast member, if not near him:


The level of joy was immeasurable.

And finally, as promised:


Alissa Rev, with powerful tiny fist.



I just noticed that the legs of the chair in the corner look like a '4' and that Alissa is doing an impression of Michael Chiklis. Another Marvel Comics fan, perhaps?



Lt. Rev and Alissa Rev


Peace out folks,

Rev

2 comments:

  1. Although I am very sorry and upset by your story of harassment by a homeless individual, I am thoroughly excited to be presented in this blog entry as a normal-looking person. This is in contrast to a previous post in which you portrayed me in a less than flattering picture (read, hideously revolting, inhuman photograph). My dog, as always, looks beautiful...however not as beautiful as your new, tiny niece. Congrats to all the Revs, oh, and thanks again for the lodging...Jenny.

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  2. Advance Cash Express Inc. Across the beautiful state of Michigan and.

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