Pumpkin Train
February 25, 2006
In an attempt to fill Deborah's bar with friendly faces, I invited Katrina and TRUE to meet me there for a drink. What I didn't realize was that Williamsburg's main vein subway train was going to stop running at midnight for another one of its famed "no service because of ongoing repairs" weekends. In other words, at the stroke of midnight, our options for getting home would suddenly go from quick and easy to annoying and expensive. MsThingk was lucky enough to live just a few blocks away, so a hop skip and a jump would get her home easy enough — not counting the sexual overtures made by the local boys hanging out in front of every bodega along the way.
"What they don't realize," she said, "Is that this blond white girl speaks Spanish."
"Do you ever call them on it?" I asked. "Ever respopnd in Spanish just to let them know you understand?"
"No," she said. "I don't want to give them any more of my mental energy than I already do just by listening to them."
As a guy, my walks home are generally quiet and uneventful, and I could walk home too if I had to. A mile long trek with a bellyfull of whiskey isn't unheard of.
TRUE was the one who had the most to lose if we lost track of time. Living on the wrong side of the East River's mighty current meant she'd have to pay through the nose for a car to Manhattan if she missed the midnight train.
"Shit, TRUE, I didn't realize the train wasn't running tonight," I told her, as we hugged hello. "I would've warned you before you schlepped all the way to Brooklyn."
As it was, we only saw each other for about a half hour before nearly turning into pumpkins. Just enough time for a quick introduction to MsThink.
"TRUE used to live in Brussels," I told MsThink. "And she used to spend a lot of time in Amsterdam."
Since MsThink had lived in Amsterdam, too, I figured it gave them some common ground. After that, they were on their own.
"What were you doing in Belgium?"
"School," said TRUE.
"What did you study?"
"Philosophy."
"Is that what you're doing now?"
"Yeah," TRUE cracked. "I have a tree that I sit under and everything."
They had a quick but funny conversation about Philosophy students, concluding that they are all smoldering sex pots, before TRUE admitted that, all jokes aside, she had a day job. "I've always done a lot of writing, though, and that's ultimately what I'd like to do. Write."
"She's a good writer," I said. "Have you ever read her site?"
"I have, yes,” Katrina admitted. “But honestly, I haven't read any blogs in such a long time. I haven't written much in mine, either."
"Good for you," said TRUE. "Getting yourself out of it. I don't blame you."
"No, no. Nothing like that. I mean, it wasn't a conscious decision or anything, it's just that, well, I got a job."
A job! The arch enemy of blogging!
"I'm thinking, though, that maybe I'll go home tonight and drunk blog," said Katrina. "It's fun, drunk blogging, have you ever done it?"
"Unfortunately, yes," I said.
"Yeah, it can be a little embarrassing the next morning."
"Just stay away from proper nouns," advised TRUE, "Proper nouns are hard to take back."
(Noted.)
When eleven-thirty rolled around, TRUE gave me a nudge. "We should go."
Goodbye to MsThink, a kiss goodbye to Deborah, so long to a couple of others at the bar, and we were on our way.
"Last train to Manhattan is in the station now, " the token clerk mumbled over the intercom.
"Shit," we said, and scrambling to get through the turnstile. But we were too late, TRUE missed her ride. "Fuck," we said, and stood in the station weighing her options.
"Go back to the bar," I suggested. Maybe Deborah's friend can give you a ride."
In addition to TRUE and MsThink, a few of Deborah's friends had stopped by to pay a visit as well. I heard a rumor that one of them had a car.
"Nah," said TRUE. "I'll figure something out," As she said it, a rush of wind from the Brooklyn-bound train pushed through the tunnel and up the stairway to where we stood. "That's your train," she said. "You better catch it."
So I did.
