Thursday, October 22, 2009
We took the 7 train from Queens to Grand Central. July 21, 2006, 2:36PM EST. It was 96 degrees Fahrenheit. My wife sat to my right. To my left sat a young couple, younger and prettier than us, both of them. He wore expensive Italian shoes, expensive everything, and a very precise haircut. The upkeep on it must have been intense. He was asleep, hunched over. Face in his knees. His girlfriend was blond. Her silk hair flowed into her silk blouse, from which her left tit nearly peeked out. She was asleep on him, twisted sideways and not wearing a bra. Together, they were a giant crumpled pile of silk, expensive, soft, and very nice to look at. Out cold, and completely vulnerable on a train to Grand Central. Across the aisle sat some tough-looking workmen from the Queens Industrial Park with giant boots and callused hands. They were filthy, sweating, stinking, laughing their asses off.