After work yesterday, I took the train home, and I was standing in one of the aisles. All of the sudden I got a bump on the shoulder and heard a voice say, “Excuse me.”
I moved and turned to look at (what I thought was a) her, but it was a Latin transvestite! Yay!! I’ve always been a fan of trannies (or is it “trannys”?), but this one truly took the cake. She was wearing gray sweatpants, the kind that gather at the ankles, and a flannel button-down shirt that she had tied up all Daisy Duke style. She also had dark brown lip liner and no lipstick (ew). She was obviously a crack addict and/or prostitute. She walked by me, and her walk is the point of this entry. She marched down to the other end of the train like a well-trained Clydesdale. Like, really high-stepping. She had her belly pushed out waaay in front of her with her shoulders waaaay back and each step, she lifted her knees up to almost a 90 degree angle. Do men really see women walking like that? I mean, was she stepping over multiple invisible trip wires? I couldn’t help but giggle at the scene, as did everyone else around.
One guy turned to me and said, “This ain’t California!”
It sure ain’t.