THIS TRAIN'S BOUND FOR SOMETHING...
We met on the Q train around 2 a.m.
She was beyond beautiful,
my kind of beautiful…
could've been Bianca Jagger's sister.
I got the feeling
the reason she sidled up next to me
was solely for protective,
not romantic, purposes.
We started a discussion about
old black and white movies.
She said she would've walked Gregory Peck's dog through a minefield.
I told her I would've had Rita Hayworth's baby.
In fact, my first born child
will be named Rita,
even if it's a boy.
I could tell she admired my dedication.
Next we discussed deal makers and deal breakers
for potential dates/mates.
I pointed to a Budweiser advertisement
with some ripped blonde surfer-type and asked,
"What about him?"
She said, "It's hard to tell because I can turn off the sexy."
"Turn off the sexy?"
"Yeah, I can just ignore the six-pack abs,
the Hollywood smile, the chiseled jaw line
and that mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.
I can nullify the physical
so my attraction to him would
be based purely on his actions, emotions,
and thoughts."
I told her I admired her stance
in regard to transcending the physical.
It seemed like a noble and realistic approach.
She wrote down her phone number
on my palm with an eyeliner pencil -
then she steamrolled through
a twenty minute diatribe
about some scientist in Germany
who had grafted Walt Disney's frozen head
onto Eva Braun's body and
the result was
a new ambisextrous UberGod
who would judge
the living and the dead
and its kingdom would have no end.
She was beyond beautiful,
my kind of beautiful…
could've been Bianca Jagger's sister.
I got the feeling
the reason she sidled up next to me
was solely for protective,
not romantic, purposes.
We started a discussion about
old black and white movies.
She said she would've walked Gregory Peck's dog through a minefield.
I told her I would've had Rita Hayworth's baby.
In fact, my first born child
will be named Rita,
even if it's a boy.
I could tell she admired my dedication.
Next we discussed deal makers and deal breakers
for potential dates/mates.
I pointed to a Budweiser advertisement
with some ripped blonde surfer-type and asked,
"What about him?"
She said, "It's hard to tell because I can turn off the sexy."
"Turn off the sexy?"
"Yeah, I can just ignore the six-pack abs,
the Hollywood smile, the chiseled jaw line
and that mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.
I can nullify the physical
so my attraction to him would
be based purely on his actions, emotions,
and thoughts."
I told her I admired her stance
in regard to transcending the physical.
It seemed like a noble and realistic approach.
She wrote down her phone number
on my palm with an eyeliner pencil -
then she steamrolled through
a twenty minute diatribe
about some scientist in Germany
who had grafted Walt Disney's frozen head
onto Eva Braun's body and
the result was
a new ambisextrous UberGod
who would judge
the living and the dead
and its kingdom would have no end.
I decided to get off a few stops early.
I woke up the next afternoon
with a slightly smeared,
yet legible,
phone number on my palm.
She answered after the third ring.
"I'm surprised to hear from you!
Especially after you
called me a 'friggin' deranged crackpot
before you got off the train."
"Yeah, well I guess
I just can't
turn off
the sexy
like you can."
