Okay, listen. You're starting to make me nervous.
See, when you were sitting across the aisle from me and I first saw you laugh a little, at what I assumed was that really tall guy standing next to the doors who you kept looking at - the one wearing the baggy black and white houndstooth pants and the shiny red pleather loafers - I thought, okay, he's laughing at that guy. That's fine. I mean, those pants are a little funny. I mean, not ha-ha funny, but funny, I suppose. I don't necessarily think it's appropriate to laugh at someone's outfit when they're standing three feet in front of you - unless they're a clown, in which case they would want you to laugh at their outfit, and that guy does sort of look like a clown in the those shoes - but manners aside, I kind of like it when someone lets out a quiet little chortle or an unexpected guffaw when something sort of funny happens on the daily crawl from the Loop to Lincoln Square. Like when it seems the train has stopped at the station and everyone lets go of the rails and then it lurches forward a few inches and everyone's suddenly falling over onto each other, thrown into an awkward embrace with the stranger in front of them. That's kind of funny, if you like that sort of humor. One day last month, when the train made a hasty hop forward at the Armitage stop, this girl wearing pink mittens grabbed a guy's nose to steady herself. Just grabbed it like that's what it was there for. Sort of cupped her hand around the tip of it. She apologized and the guy's cheeks became flush. He had sort of a big nose. That was pretty funny. I locked eyes with a girl standing nearby who'd also witnessed the event and we sort of shared a giggle. It was nice. So, I mean, I like it when something unexpected and kind of funny happens on the train and people break the silent iPod trance to acknowledge that life is happening around them and we're not just a bunch of corporate cyborgs being transported home to plug ourselves into the wall and recharge for tomorrow. So what I'm saying is, I didn't mind when you were sitting across the aisle from me and chuckled a little at that guy with the clown shoes.
But maybe I held your gaze for a moment too long, because then you got up and moved across the aisle to sit next to me. Why? Perhaps you misread my body language. I didn't want to chat or sit close; I just wanted to acknowledge that you were having a small moment of amusement. That's all. Really. And now, it's been nearly eight stops and I still feel the distinct shudder of muzzled laughter vibrating against my right arm. For the first three stops, I thought, okay, maybe he wasn't laughing at the clown shoe guy. Maybe something funny happened earlier in the day and now, in a moment of reflection on the ride home, he's enjoying the joke all over again. That's nice. I like that, too. I like when I can tell that someone's just remembered something really clever that someone said to them that morning and it has cycled through their brain for a second time, inciting a snicker. Or when someone emits a delighted snort while reading their book on the train. I like that. But somewhere around Belmont, you started to glance around the train, wearing a toothy grin, still gyrating in private merriment, and I was almost convinced that you were thinking of the lot of us, Suckers, you don't even know what you got comin'. What are you planning to do? And now, more unsettling, I'm not sure if you're looking out the window or if you're staring right at the side of my face, broad smile and quivering shoulders. Are you going to lick me? Please don't lean over and lick the side of my face, I implore you. (This is me, I know. This is my thing. This fear of a stranger licking my face on the train. I've asked my therapist. She has no idea.)
Are you getting off soon? Please get off. Go home to your clever wife or your cute, little schnauzer - whatever it is that's got you so tickled. In the meantime, please turn your gaze forward. And please, please for the love of all that is holy, please stop laughing. It's making me think you're mentally unbalanced. And if you are mentally unbalanced, please get off soon. I need to relax the rest of the ride home. Maybe I'll think of this on the train to work tomorrow morning and chuckle to myself, but right now, you're making me really nervous.
After reading this, I will never look at another person on public transportation again.
Posted by: Neil | January 25, 2007 at 10:51 AM
Your post made my skin crawl...
Posted by: girlanddog | January 25, 2007 at 11:15 AM
I am really good at the public trasnportation stare. My mantra is "mustnotestablisheyecontact". It keeps the face lickers away.
Posted by: Churlita | January 25, 2007 at 12:52 PM
Last time I rode the train in Chicago, I sat next to a guy who wore two different colors of Old Navy flip-flops. His toenails were painted silver.
I was kind of impressed.
Posted by: Alison | January 25, 2007 at 04:32 PM
Girl with the mittens and the nose? Awesome. As is the whole post, really. But I feel fixated on the mittens and the nose-grabbing at the moment.
Posted by: Moose | January 25, 2007 at 06:23 PM
Facelickers? Can I sit in on your therapy sessions?
You had me laughing out loud as I read this in a public cafe. How profoundly ironic is that? Do you think those beside me were concerned?
Posted by: deezee | January 25, 2007 at 07:14 PM
I don't take public transportation since the unfortunate suicide/labor and delivery/vomiting episode of 2006.
Posted by: Mist 1 | January 25, 2007 at 08:57 PM
Holy cow that was a funny post. I ended up here through some random link clicking and I'm glad I did. Amusing post...thanks for the laugh.
Posted by: Work in Progress | January 25, 2007 at 10:07 PM
Yes, Deezee, you can if you'll agree to pay half.
Posted by: Cover Your Mouth | January 26, 2007 at 03:51 PM
just how big was this nose?
Posted by: margaret | January 26, 2007 at 08:00 PM
Great post. It reminded me of when, just a few weeks ago, I was sitting in the cafe at a Barnes and Noble in Dallas and kept hearing this noise. Sort of like a chuckle, but not. At first, I was thinking, "what the f**k IS that?" I'd look around, but couldn't find where it was coming from. I'd go back to reading my magazine. Then I'd hear it again. A creepy giggle. I was wondering, "is it in the music they're playing on the in-house system and I just keep hearing snippets of something?"
Back to the magazine. This must have gone on for at least 8 or 9 times, each time with me looking like a moron cocking my head to figure out where the sound was coming from.
I finally located the sound. Talk about CREEPY. This skinny guy, reading a COMIC BOOK (mind you, he was like 30) and carrying a skateboard (when he was clearly past the cool skater dude age), with long, stringy, greasy black hair and patchy facial growth was where the sound came from.
He appeared to have not bathed for some time, but the part that skeeved me out the most? His fingernails. He had long (like in a Dracula movie long)translucent nails that came to points.
He finally left, probably to suck blood or something, but it just makes you wonder about some people and how they veer so far from normal. Yeah, yeah, I know "what's normal?" and all that - but I can tell you one thing - THAT was not anywhere close to normal.
And since you take public transportation, you obviously know what I mean. And yeah, the pink mitten thing - FUNNY.
Posted by: The Daily Rant | January 27, 2007 at 01:28 PM
I've had my neck licked. Of course, it was just after he asked if I'd give him a blow job in the bathroom, and right before I freaking yelled for security.
Now, I practice "mustnotestablisheyecontact" too. (It really is a great strategy, girlanddog!)
Of course, now I'm worried about laughers and lickers.
Posted by: Alli | January 29, 2007 at 03:34 AM
See? I knew this face-licking stranger thing was not some sort of paranoid delusion. IT HAPPENS!
Now if someone tells me that they once did actually find a man hiding under their bed while checking for the second time before turning in for the night, I can also cross that off the list of Preoccupations That Might Mean I Am: a) Irrational and Paranoid or b) Admirably Vigilant.
Posted by: Cover Your Mouth | January 29, 2007 at 09:32 AM
I don't see what is so bad about licking people on the subway. I always thought it was a nice ice breaker, and a good way to judge someone's personal hygiene. If it bugs everyone so much, I'll cut back.
Great post, you deserve a lick.
Posted by: Killer | January 30, 2007 at 07:48 AM
You must have seen the horror movie with this plot:
Serial killer breaks into house. Kills dog. Girl goes to sleep, reaches down to pet dog who always sleeps under her bed. Always licks her hand.
And then the serial killer licks her hand. Just like the dog normally would do.
Then, she looks in the mirror and sees...the serial killer.
Horror ensues.
Honestly, ruined me for life.
Posted by: Alli | January 30, 2007 at 01:32 PM
He's probably laughing at the voices in his head. You know how hilarious those auditory hallucinations can be.
Posted by: wordgirl | February 01, 2007 at 11:29 AM