Thursday, February 03, 2005

“Diversity...on the T!”

(I will explain the title in a later post. If I do it now, it'll just be distracting.)

I am on my way to visit a friend at the tiny college I attended. A very tiny, Christian college just outside of Boston. Two guys, one in a Big Blue Coat, one in a Baseball Cap. They get on the T, mid conversation.

They’re talking about people that I don’t know, but a lot of them are either “Fucked Up” or “Whacked”. I raise my eyebrows when I hear one of them answer his cell phone with “Holla!” I thought people only did that on TV.

They’re talking about their friends, and some (I know it’s a colloquialism to some people, but I just cannot bring myself to say the “n” word”) who got busted for..."aw, shit, what was it? Drinkin' and Drivin!”. And another “n” who got up all in his face about some bitch who was nasty and THEN Big Blue Coat pulls out a knife. A big knife.

It was closed, but I must say, I was impressed and freaked out at the same time.

The man has brass ones. I mean, it’s the Red Line at 2pm. Not exactly the cover of darkness...of course, there were only five people in the entire car. And I wasn’t going to say anything...most people (“most”...the other two people) were at the opposite end of the car anyway.

Big Blue Coat is back on his cell phone talking to someone that they’re about to visit, telling her when they’ll arrive. Baseball Cap Man turns to ME and says:

“I mean, y’all smoke weed, don’t you?”

Is it the torn Army coat? I am wearing an old army coat that my Dad gave me. Whenever I wear it, I get "looks". I think it's the old army coat.

Why I did this next thing, I don’t know. I have never done a joint, lit up a fatty, rolled a bone, or smoked a jibber in my life. I got the expressions I just used from High School and this guy Dave that I hung out with in college.

But I say, “Yeah, when I was in college. My husband won’t let me now.”

I hate lying! I only do it for surprise parties (“No, we’re only going to the movies, why?”) and the occasion when I met my now-husband-then-new-boyfriend’s friends and wanted to see if I could convince them I was a stripper (no idea why I wanted to do that).

I LIE to men with a knife! A BIG knife!

They were really nice to me. Baseball Cap and I got into a discussion about the legalization of marijuana (which I support).

He says “I mean, weed, ain’t a real drug. Coke, Crack, Heroin...that shit will fuck you up, Man! (turns to his friend) Like that bitch, Brandy. She's fucked up on that shit.”

Big Blue Coat agrees. “Oh, yeah, she's hot, but so fucked up, no one wants to touch her!”

Baseball Cap turns back to me, and this is his pot legalization argument:

“Weed makes you hungry, makes you eat. They oughtta give weed to them skinny anorexia chicks who don’t eat”.

(Pause for you all to absorb this.)

This argument has never crossed my mind before. It makes sense in an odd way. Give anorexics the munchies...they’ll have to eat!

I talk about people with cancer and glaucoma, the benefits of hemp over traditional paper, and he agrees wholeheartedly.

As the train pulls into my stop, and I rise to go, Baseball Cap says “Hey, take care! And tell your husband that it ain’t right, not letting you have weed.”

And I lie YET AGAIN!

I tell them that I’d tell my husband, all he’ll do is roll his eyes, which they think very funny. In reality, when I tell my husband this, he’ll probably say “Honey, you can have all the weed you want, as long as you share.” followed by “So what are you talking about?” .

Or maybe he’ll just say “Whaaat?” (extra a’s for laughter).

So am I going to hell for lying? No...I'm pretty sure God finds this situation highly amusing.


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