Back from retirement (for a day)

F train clusterfuck
No room for your ass in this
Human Tetris game

Day 363: A startling confession from a stranger

The guy smiles and says
"I'm just as behind as you
On my New Yorkers"

I was perusing the issue from the first week of April on the subway platform. I didn't have the heart to admit that I am actually backlogged to late January. Truthfully, the New Yorker is too smart for me. The articles are usually about 10 pages long. I lose interest in Callista Gingrich after 2 pages, TOPS. I mostly just read the cartoons.

Also, that might have been the New York-iest pickup line ever.

Day 360: Reading

An old man devours
A Spanish dictionary
As if it's thrilling

Or maybe he just had Fifty Shades of Grey (a.k.a. that book everyone is pretending they are not reading on their Kindles) tucked between the covers.

Day 355: Mysteries

Those pants on your head
Tell us something about you
But I'm not sure what

Day 354: On the Brink

Crack that blasted gum
One more time in my left ear
And I will end you

I am not a violent person, but we all have our limits.

Day 353: Jamaica, Queens; 3:30 PM

High schoolers unleashed
Pushing, shrieking, holding hands
An orgy of youth

Day 352: Impromptu vase

A bright green rain boot
Full of pale pink peonies
Wrapped in cellophane

Day 351: Sugar rush

A tall twitchy man
Paces, holding a large cake
Grumbling to himself

Periodically he would get very angry and pantomime throwing the cake onto the tracks. For reasons I can't quite explain this made me incredibly nervous.

Day 350: Methinks the lady doth protest too much

Their braces glinting
Precocious pre-teens gossip
About who has crabs

Kids grow up so fast.

These boys and girls were in vociferous agreement that a female classmate (not present) has crabs. Their reason? The poor girl got really upset when this group told the entire middle school that she has crabs. A sure sign of guilt.

Day 349: Friggin' Hipsters

We get it. You're hip
Even without the giant
PBR tote bag

Just in case we didn't get the message from her skinny jeans and ironic shop teacher glasses, her ironically huge Pabst Blue Ribbon bag lets us know that she is a card carrying hipster. This ironic bag is perfect for ironically carrying the ironically bad beer that she will ironically consume while ironically checking the balance on her ironic trust fund.

Day 348: Umbrellonet? Bayonella?

A pouchy-faced toad
Knocks me clear out of the way
With her umbrella

The subway is a dog eat dog world, with a seat as the ultimate prize. This woman was a worthy adversary. Her savvy use of the "appear out of nowhere reverse umbrella bump with dirty look and purse block" maneuver was impressive.

She won the battle, but not the war. Game ON.

Day 347: Shawarma or gyro?

I step off the train
Smelling like the street meat that
Fat guy was eating

Day 346: Rude awakening

I drift off to sleep
And wake up in Jamaica
Queens, not paradise

I go there a lot, and it never ceases to disappoint.

Day 344: Pipe Down

For the love of God
Stop trying to save our souls
Subway preacher man

Sometimes you can serve your cause better by SHUTTING THE HELL UP ON MY MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE.

Day 343: Inadvertent Photobomber

No doubt I'll appear
In a dozen Facebook pics
A smirking backdrop

It's all part of the Halloween aftermath.

Day 341: Even more Halloween

Sexy schoolgirl squeals
Naughty nurse shivers with cold
Slutty cat looks bored

Sorry to overload with the Halloween haiku, it's just that this is a holiday that provides so much scope for the imagination!

Day 338: Is there an app for that?

A plea for spare change
Loses its effect when you
Pull out your iPhone

Day 335: Dog Days, Part II

Still learning restraint
A novice guide dog lunges
For a dropped cookie

The guide dog on my morning commute was a model of restraint. She was like a big gold smiling statue of a lab. Miraculously, I saw another guide dog in the afternoon! This one was still in training. He was out with his foster father and a young kid, learning how to calmly take the subway. Frankly, I'm not entirely sure this dog's going to make the cut. In the time that I watched him, he flopped on the subway platform and demanded a belly rub, investigated a lot of food detritus, and got his head stuck up the back of a woman's long raincoat.

It was adorable.

Day 334: Dog Days, Part I

The guide dog grins as
If to say "I'm working, but
You should see me fetch"

It is a well known fact that I am obsessed with guide dogs. All working dogs, in fact. I love them. I will move down the subway platform to be closer to them. I know I'm not allowed to pet them and it drives me crazy.

Day 332: F Train Theater

Two tattooed hipsters
Engrossed in a screaming match
Eyes narrowed, lips curled

I think these waifish, well-inked young ladies were roommates. The argument sounded like something this:

Butterfly Arms: "I'm going to be late again because of you! You did this on purpose! Why do you ALWAYS do this?!"

Tribal Designs: "You were going to be late anyway! You spend so much time on your stupid hair! AND you told me to meet you at the 7th Avenue stop, not 15th Street. I was waiting for you there!"

Sappy Butterflies: "I SAID FIFTEENTH! FIFTEENTH!! Admit it, YOU WANTED ME TO BE LATE! You ALWAYS want me to be late! And I didn't even finish doing my hair!!!"(brushes vigorously) "Now my hair looks like SHIT because of you!" (rips large hairball off of brush, throws onto platform, stomps foot) "I HATE YOU!"

Contrived Tribalist: "NO, I HATE YOU!"

And so on. I'm not sure what they were late for that was so important. They were hipsters, so it certainly couldn't have been work.