The A subway from the John Jesse exhibit midtown to west fourth was a little packed and we were having such a good time. Dates with many people around are very exciting, especially with those erotic drawings in mind. I was murmuring something about sex to her ear and being maybe just a little too personal with hands in all the interesting places.
In a tight crowd nobody notices. And in New York nobody cares, except those perverts that get excited and are picturing beautiful tender things happening between two boys, girls or any combination thereof. What are they thinking these dirty people?!
The crowd dissipates around Thirty Fourth street and we sit down towards the end of the subway car on a two person seat. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a short and arrogant man jumps and attempts a monologue with a well dressed man sitting across.
“Have you seen what these fucking people are doing? They are fucking fucking! That’s totally inappropriate. They should be fucking fucking in bed. My wife and I fuck in bed. Fucking unacceptable. They are fucking talking about sex. Fucking children could fucking hear or see this. Fucking people.”
Me: bewildered. I don’t like to upset people. Her: amused.
The well dressed gentleman changes his smile into a serious grin and jumps into the conversation in our defense: “You really need to get laid.” … “Sir, do you think that your language is acceptable for those children that might hear you shouting across the entire subway?”. The nice man sounds completely gay and well mannered. He also mentions something like “Good for them.”
“I am from Puerto Rico! Me and my wife fucking fuck at home. Fucking people. No respect.” The man strategically moves towards the door. “Fuckers. Do it in your bed. Fucking fuck.”
The huge black woman sitting on the right is holding herself from laughing. So is about half the subway. Everybody is having a good time now.
Her: “Does this guy know he’s trying to convince the homosexual man that we are having an incorrect heterosexual behavior?”. Me: holding myself from laughing out loud. I still don’t like to upset people.
The punch line comes as the doors open on Fourteenth Street. The man steps out of the car, turns his head back, and just before the doors close shouts something that makes me genuinely happy about living in New York: “Asshole!”