The Great Pretender


May I make a confession? One of the things that really grinds my gears about being in and making my way around this city is the fact I have to pretend not to see shit on a regular basis.

People begging for money? Invisible. The homeless person taking up three seats? Where? People trying to solicit, sell me things, or hand me something? Nope.

On the daily, I see all these things and have no problem paying it all dust. Still some things are hard to ignore and it’s irritating for me to act like its nothing.

Take a few days ago for example. I’m on the crowded ass heLL train. Of course there’s a long train delay due to traffic ahead of us. A young man gets on. Late teens, early twenties.

Suddenly, this young man starts to slowly pop lock and tick. He didn’t make noise. I didn’t hear any music. He kept himself contained to his own little space and there was no flipping or kicking like showtime dancers.

So I’m looking at him but pretending not to look at him and thinking what the hell…!

Why do I have to pretend to ignore this guy who literally poplocked all that way from Lorimer to Myrtle? That’s almost a good twenty to thirty minutes.  I want to know why? Is it because I live in New York and must condition myself to ignore the outlandish?

Meanwhile, I’m trying to ignore this dancing guy and another passenger boards with brows set in a permanent shock position and disheveled blue and green hair. Wouldn’t you know she stands right next to Señor Poplock. 

I was in fake ignore overload. Here’s another person I have to pretend  like I don’t see even though I clearly see both of them.

On days like that, I really do feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone.


One thought on “The Great Pretender

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s