Day XlV

It was a riot

    At  that moment though, as it unfolded, we thought it was funny as all hell. She kicked his ass, and farted. Guys never, ever see or hear a girl fart, so everybody laughed.

     “Haw haw haw! Ha, ha ha! He, he he, heeee! Ho, ho ho, ho ho ho!”

    It was a riot, and as far as we were concerned, he finally got his comeuppance. When the doors opened, Gooser flashed out of the car, blood streaming down his nose, and a hugemongous purple welt right in the middle of his forehead. But she stayed in the car, continuing to her stop. I still remember her leaning against the opposite door, looking likethe Mona Lisa with her eyes closed, and a single tear streaming down her cheek, as the train pulled away. I really felt sorry for her, but there was nothing I could do. If I or anybody had said anything, she may have well jumped all over us too.

     Outside on 59 Street, and Columbus Circle, we couldn’t wait to finally light up, and as I inhaled, I heard somebody snort:

     “Ain't we bin telling that asshole somebody was gonna hoit im, uh!”

     “Gooser be one sick cat, man. He lucky she didn’t cut his ass.”

     “Nah, she din lookey like that kinna goil, man.”

  

     “Lucky him!”

­­­     But he took it in stride, and bragged.

      “Man, her ass was sweeeeet!” and added, “It’s a numbers game, man…win some, lose some!"

­­­­­­

     “Well, stoopido ya don losted t’dee, uh!”

     “Mofo, one day ya gon gits caught, an ya gon do time.”

     “Yea, man, ya gon be somebody’s bitch!” Another continued, “Ya gon come outa da a fag, ya dumb ass."

     “Yea asshole!” somebody else added. “Ya lucky she wasn’t my sis, man. Ida faaaaak ya up, man. Be lee me!"