Heh. Fudge Tunnel.
The ads on subway cars are propped onto the walls by these metal grid-rail-holder-thingies. Every very often, someone sticks business-card-size pieces of paper into them with their own ads touting the greatest weight-loss plans ever. Lose 50 pounds in 3 days! It's healthy!
On the (exceedingly packed) train this morning, while I was avoiding eye contact with my fellow commuters, I noticed that someone had lined up three of the papers onto a gril-rail-holder-thingy, turned them around, and wrote on the backs: WE ARE NOT ALL STRANGERS. What I loved about it was that there was no way to know if the person who wrote that had religious intentions, to preach that we are all related under God, or that the message was not religious but social, that in such an enormous city we're really not as unlinked as we seem.
Related or linked or not, I still prefer my commutes free of old men rubbing their crotches against my ass.
Speaking of asses, this morning I got an e-mail from Stephanie, saying she'd done some research on a new doctor she was seeing. Apparently, she found that a person by the same name is in a band called Fudge Tunnel. "Then I realized that it's a British band and the doc's last name is spelled with a y instead of with an i. Like Ali with an i. I don't think it's him," she wrote. "Phew! Fudge Tunnel — that's more of a proctologist kinda thing, anyway."
Also, I finished reading WAR & PEACE this weekend. I screamed AND did a jig when I finished. My question to anyone out there who's read it is this: Did anyone bother to tell Vera that her father and brother died? Cuz REALLY.
On the (exceedingly packed) train this morning, while I was avoiding eye contact with my fellow commuters, I noticed that someone had lined up three of the papers onto a gril-rail-holder-thingy, turned them around, and wrote on the backs: WE ARE NOT ALL STRANGERS. What I loved about it was that there was no way to know if the person who wrote that had religious intentions, to preach that we are all related under God, or that the message was not religious but social, that in such an enormous city we're really not as unlinked as we seem.
Related or linked or not, I still prefer my commutes free of old men rubbing their crotches against my ass.
Speaking of asses, this morning I got an e-mail from Stephanie, saying she'd done some research on a new doctor she was seeing. Apparently, she found that a person by the same name is in a band called Fudge Tunnel. "Then I realized that it's a British band and the doc's last name is spelled with a y instead of with an i. Like Ali with an i. I don't think it's him," she wrote. "Phew! Fudge Tunnel — that's more of a proctologist kinda thing, anyway."
Also, I finished reading WAR & PEACE this weekend. I screamed AND did a jig when I finished. My question to anyone out there who's read it is this: Did anyone bother to tell Vera that her father and brother died? Cuz REALLY.
Labels: family, health, New York, pop culture, religion
posted by Marla at 11:55 AM
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