For me, it was a Tuesday.

I step onto the train and surprisingly enough, there's barely anyone in the car. Surprised at the unlikely chance that I won't be fighting for elbow room the entire commute, I swiftly head to an open seat.

Then something happens, something awesome, something perfect. Something awesomely perfect.

A woman steps into the train. I spotted her from the other side of the car. She literally froze me in my tracks (Yes, literally, I definitely felt goosebumps.) A sun-kissed temptress with whose presence I simply couldn't deny myself. There was something about her that I wanted to know. Something about her I needed to know, and I needed to know it... now.

I noticed she was reading a book about the life and times of Nat Turner. How amazing is that? I just so happened to read the same book a couple years ago. Maybe we could talk about it together. I was overcome with curiosity. Like, how did she find out about the book? Where did she pick it up at? Does she read anything else from Kyle Baker? Hmm, maybe not that last one...

I know it's a stock photo, but she was too fine to pass up.

As she gracefully flipped pages, I couldn't help but notice her hair. A beautiful shade of the darkest brown, it was pulled back into an impressive puff with curls that spiraled out to the sun, shining out onto the rest of us like some kind of beautiful afrocentric corona.

I moved closer. She licks her lips, a pouty perfected blend of soft and supple, right before she turns each page. "What a neat little tick", I thought to myself. I wonder, does she read often, does she only do it on the train? She looks like she's smart, but then maybe that's just because she's holding a book right now. Well... probably.

Then suddenly, something else happens. The bell rings, the train door opens and she begins to look around. I feel her watchful gaze creeping slowly around the car. I look up and our eyes meet, and the connection is felt instantaneously.

She doesn't turn away. So, I close the gap. 


I conjure up the smoothest, coolest Et Cetera I've ever been able to manifest in my life, and break the silence. 


"Hi, I noticed your book. How long have you had it?"

She turns around flashing those beautiful pearly whites at me and unrepentently plunges a knife deep into my heart, deftly twisting it, and ripping it from my chest. She then proceeds to do some kind of river/Lion King-musical dance all over it in front of everyone on the train.  And, as the life slowly bleeds away from me onto the sticky subway floor, I somehow manage to sputter out, "Well... a-a-at least... it was a quick death." 


And then I died.

*sigh*

Only I didn't. I only wished I did. You see, I may have embellished a little on that last part of the story. But seriously, only a little. What actually happened mostly involved her looking at me and giving THEE most uninspired exhale I've ever heard in the history of my life, and exclaiming to the unlistening air around her, "I CAN'T TAKE THIS SHIIIIIIT!!!" She then put on her headphones and promptly pivoted a complete 180 degrees away from me.

See? 


If you ask me, that's basically the same story.

I Break Stuff

Yes, I do. And not exactly on purpose. I mean, WTF would anybody break on purpose? Can't think of anything at the moment. But, as a matter of fact, if there was even such a thing, I would find it, stand next to it and tell people, "Hey! Don't break that!" and then trip over something, knocking over something else, that eventually crashes into the thing that people break on purpose, breaking it on accident.

That's the way it works, its very difficult to quietly break shit on accident when you're like me. Nope when you're like me. If anything breaks around you, it's going to be equal parts embarrassing and intricate. You don't just trip over electrical chords. You fall over them, sending piles of electrical appliances plummeting to the earth, possibly ripping/staining an item of clothing in the process. And sadly, I know this very well because, you see, the thing is... I am a clumsy person. And although this seems to be getting increasingly popular these days (I'm serious, it seems like every bastard on 2 legs wants to claim my affliction lately. And all I'm trying to say is... "Its not cool you a-holes!!!" When you can accidentally turn a sno-cone into a car accident... And not be inside the Ford Taurus, well, then you would be more than capable of knowing my true pain. Otherwise, stop it. You clumsy posers make me sick.)

This is a real affliction people! Seriously, (mostly) growing up it hurt watching all you callous jerks laugh your asses off @ Steve Urkel as he went through his weekly social ostracization on my tv screen. Because inside (wait for it), while everyone laughed their Karl Kani and Fubu T-shirts off, I sat among them thinking "forgive them brother, they know not what they do"... Yikes, perhaps that analogy was a little to heavy handed (jeez man, I'm saying though, be easy with jc references... And of all the people to compare you choose Steve Urkel? SMH, sir - followed a by long belabored sigh) Now, (that I'm totally overusing parentheses) dear reader, you may say to urself, "self did Mr. Et Cetera really just make a christ analogy using a TGIF sitcom? And then argue about it with himself inthe third person..." Well... yes I did, actually, & hopefully you didn't really go through that much exposition contemplating it, and if you did, well consider yourself side-eyed. Weirdo.

Honestly though, I am deathly afraid of holding babies, glass objects and expensive electronics (in that order). There is honestly no thought more horrifying than someone having the totally irresponsible, brazen audacity to put one of those fragile little crumbsnatchers into my awaiting left and right arms, better known to most as death and destruction (ok, maybe not most... Ok, ok maybe only I call them that, but trust me - it's gonna catch on, possibly).

And why do babies have to be so damn small and fragile? You know baby giraffes damn near take off running after sliding outta big mama giraffes? You know what human babies do? That was a trick question, babies don't do anything. Not anything I wanna see anyway. And now you want me to hold that little vomit grenade? No thanks, I'll be late for that. Why would someone do that to me? Because people are jerks that's why. No consideration.

Two things. When I was a kid I played little league baseball. And do you know what position I played? Of course you don't because I'm about to tell u right now. I played right field. Right field, or as my coach so cleverly named it, "go stand over there". Why was I over there? Because I couldn't catch a Effin' thing. Literally. Flying thing, falling thing, no things were getting caught, none of them. And thankfully, because I was in right field, (and because most 3rd graders have the unholy strength of a small kitten) most hits never really got any further than 1st base. So, consequently, I came to develop this odd understanding that playing outfield wasn't really done right until I had found at least 1 four-leaf clover. And of course it had to be done while singing, my then always inspirational, and somehow, seemingly endless library of cartoon theme songs. (You'd be surprised how much time can pass singing a personal, symphony-concerto rendition of Darkwing Duck) and then it happened (cue ominous music) I'll never forget it, one bright cloudless hot-ass Saturday morning, after we somehow managed to get the opposing team "out" three times, we were going into the dugout to get ready to bat. I tripped going into the dugout, falling forward (and down) onto all my teammates. Desperately trying to recapture my balance, I let go of (kinda threw) my bat and helmet to better catch myself. Before I knew what was happening, my helmet is flying through the air while my bat rolls off in front of me, nowhere to be seen. The helmet tragically hits my coach in square in the face, splitting his lip and busting his nose wide open (yea, definitely more like a throw). The hit knocks him into my next coach who tears his ACL slipping on my now easy to see rolling bat (which was crazy, I mean first of all, it would be years before I even knew what the hell an ACL was, and also what?!! Yes that really happened, and needless to say, after that, I definitely wasn't a favorite with the coaching circle anymore - sorry coach. Not like ever was anyway).

Did I do that?

And besides, really though... he really was not that good of a guy (actually, now that I think of it, Eff you coach McKullum). He was definitely a dick, I remember he used to tell us in practice, "if u boys ever wanna win anything in life, you have to work harder than a Mexican! Especially you Mexicans!" (Side note: Dear "The Great American Pass-Time" thanks for all the memories!) And Yes, in case u were wondering, we did have Mexican kids on our team (shout out to the homey Victor!!!). So yes, its a hard life when your clumsy. Apparently, you are doomed to suck at little league baseball, cripple old men, and injure small babies (not that I did, the babies part I mean, of course I didn't. Why? What have u heard?). Still, it's not that bad though, and after a while you kinda get used to your uncanny powers. I just wish there was someway to use them for good.

Anyhow, thanks for reading. Sorry about being away so long, I had to go close up an oil spill in the gulf... Perhaps you've heard of it? Anyhow, any other clumsy veterans out there? Its ok to raise your hand, your among friends. Also, one last thing before I go, I do not think I'm Big Meech, just in case you were wondering.




P.S. "Closing up a spill in the gulf" is code for "Drinking copious amounts of hard liquor while swearing to put up a post in the morning - for two weeks" (Larry Hoover).

Also, it was only one thing... made ya' look!