Tuesday, September 12, 2006

TODAY AT MERLE'S: Blood, Sweat & Tears


TODAY AT MERLE'S: You've Made Me So Very Happy by Blood, Sweat & Tears

The refrain of today's Merle's song ("You've made me so very happy, I'm so glad you came into my life") could not be more ironic when applied to my subsequent train ride this morning.

Once I'd transferred onto the final train of my daily commute, the last person to get on (who can only be described as an asshole wearing surgical scrubs and noise-cancelling headphones) had a choice of only two seats left open: the one next to me, and the one directly behind the empty one next to me. He chose the one in the seat behind me, and then proceeded to place his backpack on the open seat next to me.

There's an ongoing announcement on the train, and one of the courtesies it implores is "Please keep your bags off the seat next to you, so others may sit down." In the five plus years I've been riding the El in Chicago, I've never encountered this situation before; clearly, the asshole had committed unusual behavior. With this in mind, I turned around and engaged the asshole in conversation, which went exactly like this:
JOHN EATS: Excuse me, is this your bag?

SURGICAL SCRUBS ASSHOLE: Yeah, it's my bag. What about it?

JOHN EATS: Did you need it back?

SURGICAL SCRUBS ASSHOLE: (raising voice without removing noise-cancelling headphones) No, I don't need it back. It's my fucking bag, and it's in an empty spot, so I'm gonna use it.

JOHN EATS: (hands up in a gesture meaning "whatever, back off dude") Okay, no problem. (turns head to look out window, away from asshole)

SURGICAL SCRUBS ASSHOLE: You fucking dick. (everyone on train turns to stare at us)

Two minutes passed in silence. Please keep in mind that at this point, the train was running in "express mode" which means it wouldn't stop for another 15 minutes. The door at the end of the train car opened, and a gargantuan, vodka-soaked street person walked in and began conversing with everyone on the train. He made his way in my direction.

Surgical Scrubs Asshole kindly lifted up his bag and offered the vodka-soaked street person the empty seat next to me, effectively trapping me in my seat. When the vodka-soaked street person attempted to engage him in conversation, Surgical Scrubs Asshole got up and walked over into the next car. I immediately put my iPod on so the vodka-soaked street person would hopefully not try to talk to me for the next fifteen minutes. It worked; he started talking to the guy who was sitting behind me.

After about five minutes, the vodka-soaked street person got up and walked over into the next car as well. I put my bag on the seat next to me in case either of them returned. Neither did. When I got off the train, a woman next to me dropped her cell phone. I picked it up for her. I figure if there really is such a thing as karma, I've banked some this morning.

Enjoy the video, you fucking dick.

1 Comments:

Anonymous "a" said...

Um, ya, wow. Remember, he's in the medical field because he loves society ;-) That's the sort of person who sneaks home body parts in his bag.

Why do people wear surgical scrubs *outside* of the hospital, anyway? Isn't the whole point that the clothes are somewhat sterile? Who wants some jerkstore who keeps his scrubs at his skanky apartment and rides the train with them...?

10:00 AM  

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