So, I make my escape from the Lower East Side at around 1am tonight, and as I drift to the train I play this new game I've been playing since I've been back. It's called "Try To Act Like You Dig New York City And Stop Thinking That It's Abrasive, Annoying, and Disgusting." For the moment, all is going well enough. The F train arrives within ten minutes of my arrival on the platform and I find a nice air-conditioned seat, where I proceed to open up my book--Philip Roth's THE PLOT AGAINST AMERICA--and dive back into that nightmarishly plausible world. And then everything falls apart.
At the very next stop (East Broadway for you non-New Yorkers), the doors open and I hear an angry voice stepping onto the train. We'll call this person Ferociously Angry Black Man. Obviously I can't block out his screaming no matter what I try to do, though I keep staring down at the book as if I'm reading away. Ferociously Angry Black Man unleashes a vicious tirade about how 9/11 was very unfortunate, as was the Holocaust, but why has everyone seemed to have forgotten about slavery? An interesting point, perhaps, but when you're screaming it at the top of your lungs, it's hard for a listener to feel your pain. We're too busy feeling the pain in our eardrums.
After several minutes of this raucous pontificating, a gentleman at the complete opposite side of the car snapped. We'll call him Cranky Old White Man. He said something about Jesus, and F.A.B.M. perked up and rushed down there to talk to him. About fifteen minutes later, two grown men were having one of the loudest shouting spats I can ever remember hearing. And that's when I realized that, at least for today, I had lost the game and New York City had won.
Or had it?
After listening to these idiots scream at each other for no reason whatsoever, I remembered what was hiding in my bag: my beloved iPod. but even better than that, my brand new iPod also contained the only thing in the world that could redeem my night and make the pain go away.
Ladies and gentlemen, please visit the following myspace page and listen to the song "Yes For Sure" by BOB. I'm not kidding. Do it right now. You'll see what I mean by the time they get to the third verse. I would love to spend the rest of my life shooting different videos for that song. It works on so many levels that I want to marry it. Or at least make it the soundtrack to my own life...