I was on a surprisingly uncrowded T this morning. Normally, this would have been cause to rejoice. However, things have a way of happening on the T that can sully even the nicest ride.
It was 8.30 on a Wednesday morning. And this 100-pound dweeb (There’s no other word for it. McLovin could have beat up this guy) and his 200-pound girlfriend (At least. She seemed to be bigger than me, though I avoided getting close enough to find out) just start making out. And I mean really going at it. Like starving animals. It’s 8.30 in the morning on the subway and these two are groping each other like they just found a secluded spot in a fraternity basement after one too many keg stands. They started at Kenmore and probably had a baby by the time they hit Government Center.
The best part is they didn't stop even when the train stopped at a station. People were behind them clearing their throats and still these lovebirds were stuck in Gropeland.
Is it too much to ask people to refrain from these activities on the train to work in the morning? Christ. I hadn't even had breakfast yet. Can we make it a slogan? May I suggest the above?
No comments:
Post a Comment