Distraction

Lately I have taken to using the seaborne portion of my commute as a time to write, or at least think of, things I can post on here. I do this with a ball point pen and a spiral notebook I keep in my man bag along with an uncanny ability to block out all ridiculous chatter around me.

Most of the time this chatter comes from groups of Russian people spewing out noise that sound like me when i vomited after trying borscht. In high school I took 3 years of Russian, but I can not understand more than a word or two of what these Chatty Katyas are saying. Unfortunately the only bits of Ruski that remained in my head after graduation were "The milk is near the window," "I live in a summer house," and "I love men in sour cream." Therefore I do my best to ignore them.

Yesterday I was in the early stages of writing what could have been an award winning short story, when my obliviousness was destroyed by a wackjob that sat across from me. This fella was a straight up weirdo. He didn't need to open his mouth for me to gauge his lunacy because he was wearing a bright blue cap with big silver wings sticking out from the sides. It looked like something Thor would wear if he was a slow adult. The hat was so bizarre it took me 5 minutes of discreet staring to notice that he was also wearing one of those always stylish leather jackets with hundreds of tassels hanging off of it. Topping it off was his ratting almost ass length pony tail of pumpkin colored hair. This bizarre vision blew out some fuses in my brain, and my attempts to block out the surrounding noise were about to fail miserably.

The weirdo was chatting to a more normal looking colleague across from him.

"Sunday I got up early and got ready before heading to the cat show"

This is when I realized what I would blog about today. I didn't expect to be nearly blinded with confusion and rage as his comments continued.

"You know, for all the Italian people around, there is a lot of bad pizza on Staten Island..."

What the?! Having lived on Staten Island all but one year of my life and being one of these Italian people, I couldn't believe what i was hearing. I had maybe run into a bad slice once or twice. Don't ever order from Monty's. Aside form that it's a regular pizza heaven. He then dropped this nugget out of his unbrushed mouth.

"We got Domino's the other night. In all the times we ordered from them, this was the first time they got there in less than 30 minutes."

What? What?! 30 seconds ago he is complaining about bad pizza. Now he is saying that he orders from fucking Domino's? More than once? That's like saying "Man music today is really bad...I love this Scarlett Johansson CD."

Domino's pizza should only be eaten by students away at college in a place where people say "Eye-talian."

Thanks for the post, asshole.