Commuter Chronicle #1 - Look It's Sputnik

Many of us choose to take public transit to work on a daily basis. I say leave the driving to someone else if you can swing it. It saves gas, you can read a book, you can veg to some Pink Floyd, Metallica or Burl Ives, whatever floats your iPod. You can catch 30 extra minutes of sleep or you can stare at the chick in the seat ahead of you with the fake balloons and botox lips or at the guido with the muscle shirt showing off his mad skills at being... well, a guido.

And sometimes you are simply blessed with a view to a kill. It's times like these that seem to shave the minutes off of the train commute as you get lost in your private personal world of wonder. Nothing is more priceless when you catch a glimpse of a middle aged balding guy, wearing a red Member's Only jacket cramming his pointer finger half way up his sinuses. And somewhere behind his Eustachian tube and the graying 2 inch untrimmed nose hair of his left nostril, he catches hold of something, and with the dexterity of a kid trying to remove the funny bone in a game of Operation , he exposes his finger to the light.







At the end, he balances a hardened slab of mucus, dust, Cinnabon sugar and pollen. Ahh, behold the magic that is the human body. What is it not capable of? He then observes his nugget and then with the stealth of James Bond hiding inside Auric Goldfinger's estate, he slowly deposits it on the seat ahead of him with the hope that no one has seen him. But I have and I love it... and those are the good times.

Whether it is NJTransit, the MBTA, Long Island Railroad, subways, taxis, buses or your local rickshaw service, we all have the dream that the ride will be quick, quiet and completely event free. Well, that rarely happens! Actually, with me, it never happens and at 41 yrs old, I have already become a grumpy old man, how you doing Mr. Matthau... and it didn't take long.

Now the fun rides and moments are great. The booger watching, the botox queens, the extra sleep and even the cool conversations with a fellow commuters but they don't happen everyday. However, something upsetting always occurs on my commute. I will expand on more of those days in future blogs. I have hundreds of stories and I am sure I am not the only one who has lived through them.

But have you ever started your day and felt like some 7th grade, Jay Z shirt wearing, Dippy-Do hair, snot sleeved kid from Herbert Hoover Elementary School just plastered an Annoy Me sticker on your back so all of the numbnuts within a 25 mile radius of your poor ass can find you. Whoever said the freaks come out at night got it wrong. They are around us at all times. Unknowingly, poking around the otherwise uneventful starts to our day. We are all just another task that these bone terds can check off on their things to do list. Whatever you call them, freaks, chuckleheads, A-holes, or bloviating know it alls, and they have all pissed you off enough to either age you at least 4 years or make you want to go postal.

How was your December 1st, 2008 commute? Mine sucked. No boogers, no botox and no dancing guidos.I caught the 7:39 to Hoboken and found my seat. An empty two seater. I took the window seat. We pulled away and soon stopped at the Radburn station. The Radburn stop is located in northern NJ and has slowly become a Little Moscow. Many Russian immigrants have made it their home. I know three of them that I would like to send back. Does UPS deliver overnight to Odessa?

One of the three, let's call her Anzhelika, sits with me. The other two women, let's call them Boris and Mrs. Breznhev, decide to stand next to the seat. Then it starts, Boris starts yacking in Russian, then Mrs. Breznhev cackles in her two cents. They begin fighting for verbal position. Back and forth.. yack, yack, yackov.






Then the mother of all Russian sounds breaks her silence. Anzhelika, now known as the AK-47, pierces the air with her machine gun like ability to rattle off responses to both Boris and Mrs. Breznhev. It was rapid fire. Never missing her targets. How could they keep up with her? It was unreal and it was loud and it went on for 35 minutes.

Now, working in technology, we have many Russian software engineers in my office who have taught me a few Russian phrases and words. Important ones like - poshli pit piva Let's go drink beer and idi ne hui - "F%ck Off". Now being a gentleman, it was not in my heart to tell the three little sputniks to F%ck Off and I am quite sure I would never want to have a pint with any of them, especially Boris. So my Russian responses were limited.

But then there was the guy sitting behind me. A Russian Lone Ranger, a czar in shining armor, a captain in the 22nd Cavalry...He let one of the only other Russian phrases I know, rip from his lips with vigor - ZATKNIS!!!

Translation - Shut your mouth.
I never did see or get to meet that man. My hero of December 1st, 2008.
But I will thank him now with the best broken Russian I do know... Spaceba ze zatknis comrade!

Translation - Thank you for the Shut up friend!

By the way...
Dosvadanya Boris, Dosvadanya AK-47 and Dosvadanya Mrs. Breznhev... Lenin just called, he wants his annoying women back!