delano567

went to my friend's house for an early dinner. when I left, he gave me a chair to take home with me. Then in the stairwell, on the way down, was a barbell with weight plates on each end. it was heavy, but I carried the chair, and the barbell into the F train stop and got on the train. People noticed me. first, there was the drunkards, a few feet away. one of them stared at me, intently; then, he asks: 'hey you, why don't you play something?" I air-guitarred with my barbell a little, then just shrugged, and smiled.

then, I heard a high-pitched voice, and saw heads turning. I walked down the train car a little and there was this middle-aged guy, sitting down, looking like a slightly disheveled yuppy, talking to some musician with a feminine voice. He sounded like his voice never matured. Very strange effect. So here's me, sitting on my chair, on the train, holding a long barbell with weights, as if I'm about to start weightlifting on my designer wooden chair, and I'm listening to this guy chatting up the musician. Mr. castrato is asking the musician to play something, says he'll pay him a dollar, no, two doll, three dollars! the guy wearily turned him down.

dont know if it's coming out like this, but this was one classic New York scene, in all its sublime weirdness.