Me (riding into Manhattan on E train, reading Daniel Gilman's Stumbling on Happiness) to self: Wow, this book is fairly interesting; I wonder what my boss is going to want me to do in the next few weeks; that guy that just sat next to me is a little odd...
Guy: What is that you're reading?
Me (tilting book towards him so he can read title): It's pretty good. It's about how the human brain forms experiences and memories.
Guy: Oh, that sounds good. I'm writing a book myself and that sounds similar to what I'm writing about.
Me: Hmmm
Guy: Yeah, its all about emotional and how people don't deal with their emotions. About how they hold everything inside and then how they carry it with them.
Me: Wow.
Guy: I noticed that after I had some pretty bad things happen to me [goes on about some theory about how emotions work. I was spacing] ...I joined a Sioux tribe and worked with them for 3 years. I was alone in the woods without food or water for four days. During that time I was able to really work through some things. You know, they have had to rely on spiritual healing for hundreds of years... they haven't had the benefit of modern medicine, which doesn't work anyway...[blathers on about various topics, my attention drifts away, but then is brought back by this statement] So anyway, I found my first few days in New York were entertaining, but I kept getting mugged, and then I almost got arrested for chasing after a mugger with pepper spray. The police out here are useless. If some ghettotrash wants to mess with me I'll freakin paralyze him. I studied chow jin (?) koi jung (?). Have you heard of it?
Me: No.
Guy: Well, it's based on prhana yahma. I studied for years with these [ monks? yogi masters? jedis? I forget, at this point it would be the most sensical thing this jackass has been saying, I space again, but somehow get brought back by this question] So are you from New York?
Me: No, I'm from Colorado.
Guy: Oh really, that's funny. I went to Ft. Lewis.
Me: That's cool. All the skiers go there.
Guy: Yeah, but I was too poor too ski
Me :(make fake sympathy noise)
Guy: When I went to Ft. Lewis, I lived in the back of a bus. I froze my ass off in the winter. I had no one to help me through school [at this point I have the urge to mention things like student loans and dormitories but prefer to keep silent and nod every few seconds] My mom had everything handed to her, she got two Bachelor's degrees in Business and Accounting, had all her bills paid, but she wouldn't give me anything. [rambles on about something to do with his girlfriend at the time and how his mom wouldn't give him a car and something was funny in all this because he laughed and I did a little return chuckle, and then he continued on about his mother donating all her money to TV Evangelists] My stop is next but let me give you my card
[roots around in his fanny pack.Yes, he had a fanny pack] Here ya go.
Me (glance at card. Ben Ooza-something. Last name most certainly made up. Under his name it says "Native American Healer". Place in book to use a temporary book mark. Will discard later)
Guy: Take care.
Me: You too.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment