My teeth are soft
my thighs feel tight
uncomfortable in clothing
especially at night.
Just tell me I'm pretty
so I can relax
just love me for now
just love me a little bit.
I am in disrepair
it's not easy to move
I creak, I strain, it's hard now.
I'm losing myself
because this is the happiest time in my life.
Yeah, right.
We all know how that goes.
My skin looks sick
my goddamn mouth is tired
pass me that drink
so I can stay wired.
Just tell me you're still here
so I can believe
just pretend for now
just pretend a little bit.
I am in disrepair
it's not easy to move
I creak, I strain, it's hard now.
I'm losing myself
because this is the happiest time in my life.
Yeah, right.
We all know how that goes.
This is a suit, I am fake
I swear what you see
is not really me.
I am thin
I am see-through
see through me, please.
12/13/10
12/4/10
The Trolley Chronicles
I've learned a lot of things from riding public transportation, like watch where you step, always carry cash and be careful with whom you make eye contact because they may take it as an invitation to approach you and make uncomfortable and obscene comments about your body. These are lessons learned from experience. Take my word for it.
You may be wondering why I have been riding the trolley as of late, and as you may have guessed, it was not my first choice of transportation. For the past few months, I've been without a car. It's amazing how much you can learn about your fellow man when you are forced to sit next to complete strangers for more than five minutes. The last couple of months have been packed with some very random encounters and a just a few moments of clarity that made it all worth the trouble. So, I suppose I'll tell you about the scariest moment I experienced while compiling this impromptu social study and you will understand why I'm glad to be rid of public transit.
This summer was pretty mellow with the exception of the month of August, which was a sweltering, stagnant sonofabitch, especially for those without air conditioning. This is why August was the worst month ever to ride the trolley - everyone was doing it. This one particular afternoon, I was taking the train downtown and witnessed a couple arguing in the seat across from me. The arguing eventually turned into the male counterpart screaming obscenities so loudly I couldn't even concentrate on my book, his face just millimeters away from his girlfriend's. Their situation continued to escalate until he shoved her so hard her head hit the plastic partition behind her.
In a packed trolley car, no one did anything. In the moments before he pushed her, I was thinking about what my move would be if (or at this point, when, he put his hands on her) and didn't know if I should get up and say something or just sit quietly and stare straight ahead like everyone else. At this point, I was about halfway to my destination and in a pretty unsavory area of San Diego, so I could see me getting involved as not the smartest move, but I couldn't just sit there and let him physically abuse her. I couldn't just sit there and let a bully rule the rails. So, when her head hit plastic, I stood up. I took out my pepper spray and told the sad excuse for a man that if he touched her again, I would mame him. I'm not kidding ... I most definitely peed my pants a little bit when he turned around in a menacing way, wondering why a little freak in business casual and glasses was even talking to him and told me (in the foulest language ever) to stay out of his business. I repeated my statement. By now, everyone on the trolley was staring at our little standoff, so I felt like it was a safe time to sit down and try not to get stabbed before I got to work.
For the next few stops, the couple bickered until the girl, who at this point had yet to speak or even look at me, got off after she kissed the asshole goodbye. It makes me so upset to see or hear about situations where a woman is abused but so insecure and broken, she can't bring herself to rise above it. Up until this point, things had been a little unnerving, but now they got scary. Soon after his significant other exited the almost empty trolley car, the abuser coolly walked over and sat right next to me. Not in the empty seat across from me, not the completely deserted area behind me, right exactly next to my person. If I had peed my pants earlier out of fear, I most definitely became incontinent at this moment. What was he going to do?! Shank me? Put his hand on my leg? Whisper something into my ear? He didn't say one word, I tried to ignore my increasing heart rate and sweaty armpits and pretended to read. I got off at the next stop right after he said "goodbye" in a creepy tone, like he knew his intimidation had paid off and I was legitimately freaked out.
I can't tell you if I made the right decision or not in this situation. Should I have not said anything? It is clear now that he has physically assaulted before this trolley trip and that he will do it again, so why even get involved? Is it really worth the risk of being harmed myself? I don't know.
Not all trips on the trolley were quite as hostile, some in fact were pretty hilarious. There was one afternoon when a seemingly non-crazy homeless man asked me for a few dollars for dinner and I obliged. He then asked me out for a meal, his treat. Another time, a Rastafarian rapped about the perils of credit cards and payday loans for about thirteen stops. I've seen tin foil hats, people wearing seventeen layers of clothing, romance novel readers who make inappropriate sounds while getting way too into their books, etc. Other trips, I noticed the sweet side of society, like when an elderly Mexican woman sat next to a gangster-looking wannabe. She asked him for directions and information about the trolley route in broken English and I fully expected him to write off the old woman or move seats. Instead, he sat with her the full trip, had a cheery conversation about his grandmother and they even shared some candy. Some days the juxtaposition of the Encanto cemetery nestled between graffiti-tagged neighborhoods and a growing homeless population under the C Street bridge made for a more reflective and insightful trip.
I feel like I've learned a lot from public transportation. The past few months without a car have been like a thorn in my side when it comes to getting any place efficiently, but I feel like a better person because of it. That being said, I'm glad it's over. Good God, I'm glad it's over.
Deuces, trolley! Hopefully, I'll never see you or your dead rat carcasses or disgusting bugs or crazy people ever again!
You may be wondering why I have been riding the trolley as of late, and as you may have guessed, it was not my first choice of transportation. For the past few months, I've been without a car. It's amazing how much you can learn about your fellow man when you are forced to sit next to complete strangers for more than five minutes. The last couple of months have been packed with some very random encounters and a just a few moments of clarity that made it all worth the trouble. So, I suppose I'll tell you about the scariest moment I experienced while compiling this impromptu social study and you will understand why I'm glad to be rid of public transit.
This summer was pretty mellow with the exception of the month of August, which was a sweltering, stagnant sonofabitch, especially for those without air conditioning. This is why August was the worst month ever to ride the trolley - everyone was doing it. This one particular afternoon, I was taking the train downtown and witnessed a couple arguing in the seat across from me. The arguing eventually turned into the male counterpart screaming obscenities so loudly I couldn't even concentrate on my book, his face just millimeters away from his girlfriend's. Their situation continued to escalate until he shoved her so hard her head hit the plastic partition behind her.
In a packed trolley car, no one did anything. In the moments before he pushed her, I was thinking about what my move would be if (or at this point, when, he put his hands on her) and didn't know if I should get up and say something or just sit quietly and stare straight ahead like everyone else. At this point, I was about halfway to my destination and in a pretty unsavory area of San Diego, so I could see me getting involved as not the smartest move, but I couldn't just sit there and let him physically abuse her. I couldn't just sit there and let a bully rule the rails. So, when her head hit plastic, I stood up. I took out my pepper spray and told the sad excuse for a man that if he touched her again, I would mame him. I'm not kidding ... I most definitely peed my pants a little bit when he turned around in a menacing way, wondering why a little freak in business casual and glasses was even talking to him and told me (in the foulest language ever) to stay out of his business. I repeated my statement. By now, everyone on the trolley was staring at our little standoff, so I felt like it was a safe time to sit down and try not to get stabbed before I got to work.
For the next few stops, the couple bickered until the girl, who at this point had yet to speak or even look at me, got off after she kissed the asshole goodbye. It makes me so upset to see or hear about situations where a woman is abused but so insecure and broken, she can't bring herself to rise above it. Up until this point, things had been a little unnerving, but now they got scary. Soon after his significant other exited the almost empty trolley car, the abuser coolly walked over and sat right next to me. Not in the empty seat across from me, not the completely deserted area behind me, right exactly next to my person. If I had peed my pants earlier out of fear, I most definitely became incontinent at this moment. What was he going to do?! Shank me? Put his hand on my leg? Whisper something into my ear? He didn't say one word, I tried to ignore my increasing heart rate and sweaty armpits and pretended to read. I got off at the next stop right after he said "goodbye" in a creepy tone, like he knew his intimidation had paid off and I was legitimately freaked out.
I can't tell you if I made the right decision or not in this situation. Should I have not said anything? It is clear now that he has physically assaulted before this trolley trip and that he will do it again, so why even get involved? Is it really worth the risk of being harmed myself? I don't know.
Not all trips on the trolley were quite as hostile, some in fact were pretty hilarious. There was one afternoon when a seemingly non-crazy homeless man asked me for a few dollars for dinner and I obliged. He then asked me out for a meal, his treat. Another time, a Rastafarian rapped about the perils of credit cards and payday loans for about thirteen stops. I've seen tin foil hats, people wearing seventeen layers of clothing, romance novel readers who make inappropriate sounds while getting way too into their books, etc. Other trips, I noticed the sweet side of society, like when an elderly Mexican woman sat next to a gangster-looking wannabe. She asked him for directions and information about the trolley route in broken English and I fully expected him to write off the old woman or move seats. Instead, he sat with her the full trip, had a cheery conversation about his grandmother and they even shared some candy. Some days the juxtaposition of the Encanto cemetery nestled between graffiti-tagged neighborhoods and a growing homeless population under the C Street bridge made for a more reflective and insightful trip.
I feel like I've learned a lot from public transportation. The past few months without a car have been like a thorn in my side when it comes to getting any place efficiently, but I feel like a better person because of it. That being said, I'm glad it's over. Good God, I'm glad it's over.
Deuces, trolley! Hopefully, I'll never see you or your dead rat carcasses or disgusting bugs or crazy people ever again!
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