Subway Farts

The New York City subway system is one giant centrifuge.  It strips away all the bull shit and leaves you at your most human.  My most human moments occur in the subway, like when I’m up to my neck in stranger wondering who is touching me and not really caring that it’s happening - a sentiment I’m sure isn’t shared by fellow women riders.  But it is what it is.  We’re all stuck on this metal tube snaking underneath the city; better make the best of it.

Usually I’m totally ok with all of it.  This morning however, I reached a new point.  I followed my usual protocol for mornings; I stood along the back doors, halfway leaning on the hand rails and door.  Everything was going along swimmingly until somewhere between Grand Central and 14^th street my olfactory nerves were suddenly under siege like the French in WW2.  I was under enemy fire from a familiar foe: a fart.

Now I understand the attractiveness in letting one rip on the subway.  I can’t act holier-than-thou since I, in acts of a desperate man, have had to let one rip indiscriminately.  There is something, however, to be said to letting something out of your body that you know will stink.  Some will say “you don’t know that a fart is or isn’t going to smell”, but we know that’s a lie.  Sometimes you feel that pit in your stomach and a familiar grumble.  Sometimes you know when the fart is on the tip of your butthole much like words on the tip of your tongue.  It lingers there, momentarily and you wonder “what have I eaten that led to this?”

Now I don’t know the solution.  Sometimes you just can’t hold it in no matter how hard you try.  Should we institute a warning system despite how embarrassing that might be?  Should people raise their hand and say “I’m sorry but I can no longer hold it in!”  I’m not really sure but for now, I’ll just bury my nose in my scarf and give you the stink eye for giving me the stink nose.

Things I Don't Understand - Inaugural Post

Now, I don’t mean to brag or boast but I usually consider myself to be a rational, mostly competent, able-to-read-at-a-college-level individual, which is to say, I understand a fair amount of things.  I can internalize and think about things but sometimes, there are things in this material world that confound my wee male brain.  As such, I’ve decided to write a regular feature where I would list things that I don’t understand or confuse me at that point in time.  If you (the one or two imaginary readers) would like to explain anything in the lists to me in the comments, I’ll be more then happy to ignore it.

Let’s start off shall we?

1. Ties.

A quick search on the history of neckties reveals that they are descendants of fabric worn around the neck by Croatian mercenaries in the 1600’s.  These mercenaries arrived in France with their fancy neck decorations and the French were all like “Oh mon Dieu! Fantastique!” And so there began what we now call neck ties as French men and women starting wearing neck decorations in hopes of masking what I assume was some superbly offensive body odor.  In essence, neck ties started out as Glade air fresheners in porta-potties.  As always, blame the French.

And I do still blame the French.  See at my place of employment (where it is STILL looked down upon to adjust your manhood in front of people, seriously. Sexists) we are required to wear ties at all time.  Through various forms of research and postulating, I have decided that 63.456% (with a standard error deviation of 63.456%) of the United States workforce must wear ties during their work day.  I’m not one to rile people up but why do we wear ties?  It is a lengthy piece of fabric in the manner of a noose.  I don’t want to speculate on your particular feelings on nooses, but I for one don’t feel like wearing one throughout the day.  Sure the patterns are nice and finding the right tie/shirt combination can make a guy get all wet in his lady parts, but the tie brings nothing else to the table.  It doesn’t make you a better worker or someone less likely to lie or steal or cheat.  It doesn’t help me put together presentations or add stuff on a spreadsheet. Now I understand one perk of a tie is loosening it up when you are not at work so you can look like an out of work banker.  This is really the same inherent pleasure that is attached to sunglasses, mainly ripping them off like a 3^rd rate cop on a 3^rd rate procedural drama on TV.

This brings me back to my original point about nooses.  What is conducive about wearing something around your neck strangling you throughout the day?  It could be a metaphor for how professional life slowly but surely sucks the life out of you.  Or how no matter how autonomous you are at your job, there will always be an overseer who controls your fate.  At any rate, I fully expect some hipster from deep in the bowels of the Williamsburg underworld to design a neck tie that looks like a noose and claim it is “retro-chic.”

2. People who don’t say “thank you”

One of the few things my parents managed to get right was instill in me the values of saying “bless you” to someone when they sneezed and saying “thank you” when the moment called for it.  I don’t consider myself to be a kind and gentle person by any means, but damnit, a man’s got to have some guidelines.

As is usually the case, I found myself in the subway last week enjoying my perfecting morbid commute to work.  I was in the middle of the subway car (which really is the best since it’s like being at the head of the table, I imagine all the other people in the subway car are my court jesters but I digress) and across from me, a fairly middle aged lady sat down reading some horrible romance novel.  Usually I am ambivalent about my surroundings but often certain things can trigger me back to reality.  One of these triggers is when a person sneezes within my vicinity which the lady sitting down did.  She sneezed and I obliged with a forceful “bless you” and awaited a return “thank you” volley.  Instead what I got was a 120mph serve of “I HOPE YOU DIE” eyes.  I’m no sensitive nancy pants but I couldn’t for the life of me understand this.  I went out of my way to use my vocal chords and the air in my lungs to create a sound that came out of my mouth to be nice to you because you sneezed and all I get is a case of the “death stare.”  What happened to courtesy?  Give me the death stare but also give me a begrudging “thank you.”  I would understand if she had sneezed and I told her to shut the fuck up, but I was perfectly within reason to say “bless you.”  Anyways, it’s not the first time this particular event has happened to me.  So now I’m forced to rethink my strategy.