A Wonderful Day for a Picnic

Yesterday in New york City was absolutely beautiful. Central Park was teeming with people, Coney Island had hordes of sun worshippers and the F train had someone having a fucking picnic on it. Wait, what? Yes, I witnessed a picnic. On the F train. At the 34th street station, the temperature was about 138º. Muggy, hot and miserable which is pretty much standard for the MTA this time of year. I noticed a family waiting for the train and they were obviously on their way to the beach. Seeing that it was already 2:30 in the afternoon and the beach is an hour away on the F train, it seemed that they were getting a late fucking start. The family consisted of some grandma types, a few young girls, some baby daddies and a litter of children. The F train was taking a long time to get there (as usual because the MTA sucks and I hate them more than someone asking me to have their burger recooked with no pink even though they asked for it to be medium) and one of the kids asked their sister or mom or whatever for a drink. Luckily, they were prepared because there was a cooler full of ice and beverages right there. Bitch whipped out a styrofoam cup and a two liter bottle of iced tea and poured a drink for her parched offspring. As it so often goes, another kid wanted a drink and then another and then another and then Grandma wanted a Coke. The cooler was propped open and it was a regular soda fountain up in there. Any second I thought I would see one of the fucking Archie comic douches pop up and ask for a milkshake. The next thing I knew someone pulled out a bag of sandwiches and started passing them around. Of course that was when the train showed up. They herded their village onto the F train and I followed behind. I was only on the train for two stops so I didn’t get to see the inevitable happen. Surely one of the kids lost his grip on his cup and spilled it all over the damn place. And then Grandam probably chewed on a piece of gristle in her sandwich and spit it out onto the floor. The kids probably started playing hide and go seek thinking this was as good as the day was going to get. Again, I got off the train so this is all speculation. Highly likely and more than probable but speculation none the less.

I won’t even eat a Cliff bar on the train because you can practically see the germs floating around in there. But if they want to let their kids roll around on the floor and then grab a handful of Doritos, go for it. Weird. A picnic on the 7 train. Almost as weird as that time I saw a magician (also on the F train…) complete with cape and flying doves. People will do anything on the fucking subway. But the thing I hate the most? Those goddamn mariachi bands that belt out their musica at ocho in el fucking morning. No fucking gracias.

About waiting tables? No. Bitchy? Oh hell yes.

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