Had a singer today.
But this was no ordinary singer. This brother was like an Eddie Murphy singing "Roxanne" in prison type singer. Got on at the 96th station, and walks all the way to the back of the car where I'm standing. Couldn't have stayed at the other end where he came in at. No. That would have been too easy. Had to come all the way back to where I was trying to mind my business, reading my morning paper.
This nucka...got his ipod headphones on...blind to the world...looked skinny and cracked out...torn holes in the jeans...probably weighed about a buck o five...and had crutches with him but wasn't using 'em. Just breaks out in the loudest, most off-key singing you've ever heard.
New Yorkers being the typical New Yorkers just continue to read their books or papers or whatever it was they were doing before american idol decided to start blowing. I mean this guy was loud. And it wasn't a song that you had ever heard before. So he was just singing whatever all over the place. I was actually this close from saying something to the cat, which is bad because normally you just phase out train singers.
When the good, hard working class people of 72nd street got on the train I knew it was about to be comedy. And it was. They broke the NY'er code and looked at the dude several times in shock. One lady even had to comment "why is he singing like that?" The other lady says "must be drugs."
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