sometimes, on the subway, i spill my life to strangers…

Well she wasn’t really a stranger…She’s a girl from my rhetoric class, and we’ll call her Dawn. When we were leaving our class, she asked me “So, how many credits are you taking this semester?” I told her 15, she gasped, and I said, “I know, right?” (Now, I know that 15 isn’t a lot, that a lot of people take more and survive, but I’m not one of them, and after countless discussions with my dad who said, basically, in no less words, that I’m a slacker, it was refreshing to hear someone who’s on my side of the fight.) As we exited the building and descended to the subway platform, I asked her how many she was taking and she said 6, and that she had been taking credits here and there through the last decade of her life. She’s 28. I replied by saying that I would love, love, love to take small amounts of credits here and there, slowly and skillfully building my GPA, but 1. My dad, who financially takes care of things in my life, would never go for that, 2. I’d have no where to live and no way to support myself while I slacked around the city, degreeless, taking my sweet time with things. But it sounded magical! How did she support herself in the meantime? She catered. And did astrology and tarot cards….

So of course, being the giddy little thing I am, I thoughtlessly said, “Ooo! Tell me something! Is there anything you can say about me without cards? I’m an Aquarius!” She said, “Hmm, Aquarius…you said you were x, so that means you were born in 19xx…okay, okay…you’re very beautiful, you probably get a lot of compliments and…people will probably grant you favors very easily.” K, so bullshit, bullshit, but still, I liked where she was heading. “What kind of favors!” I asked, “Someone going to pay my tuition?” She laughed and said, “I don’t know, maybe?”

The subway finally arrived and we entered. As I clung to the center pole, I could tell by her face that she was getting some more info from Zeus or whatever, and she touched her throat and said, “In the next couple of months, you will get a throat infection.” Wait, what? What happened to my beauty?…And those favors! Go back there. “What kind of infection? Will I have to go to the hospital? You know, I don’t really have an established doct…” I trailed off, but she said, “No, listen. It could just be something as simple as a sore throat. Don’t worry. It’s just clearing out the bad energy, bad waste, the lies…”

I felt like Winonna Ryder in Reality Bites when she’s on the phone with that psychic. Everything the lady says, she eats up and applies it somehow to her life. The lady said that the guy in her life, that his name begins with an N and Winonna’s character says, “NEW STAND! He used to work at a NEW STAND. Oh my God, this unbelievable!” So when she said I was clearing out the lies, I burst out: “You know, you are so right! Every time I go home to visit my family, I have to lie about who I am…I can’t tell them about my girlfriend, I can’t talk about who I voted for…I just become a totally different person! So many lies!” I could feel people looking at me as I had a in-train epiphany. She said, “Yes, see? It’s all going to be cleared out.”

“What else can you tell me? Or, is this too much? Should I be paying you?” I’d become completely derailed! “No, no, no! Let’s see…this summer…yes, this summer you’ll be able to measure your self worth, in your terms, and finally see yourself, define yourself as a person in this world.” Oh no. Life spill. I could feel it coming up again: “This is crazy! This summer is like the turning point of my LIFE. See, my time at the dorms is up this summer, and if I can’t find another place to live, I might have to move home or something. And I can’t do that. Home will kill me, slowly,” I kept unraveling. “And I could move in with my girlfriend, though I’m not sure if it’s the right time for that, but then I’d have to come out to my parents. But you know what? Maybe that’s it!” She said, “You could always lie.” I said, “No, no. I don’t want to do this forever, I don’t want to keep lying. No more throat infections, you know? And this could mean that I can finally measure my self worth, as a person, in this world, in my standards, NOT my parents!”

Was I sweating? I felt like I said too much. “I’m sorry. This is rude. This isn’t my sob story. I’m sorry.” She shook her head, “No, no. This is totally fine.” “But I hardly know you,” I said. The train stopped at 51st street and she said, “Well this is my stop, bye!” And she was gone. Ran off with my life story. I practically gift-wrapped it for her. Taking a seat, I couldn’t help but feel like a motherfucking fool. Summer of self worth? Really? Come on.

But nevertheless, I’m keeping a close eye on that throat of mine. OUT WITH THE LIES. Yeah? Okay, no.
Maybe I should look into catering.


~ by angiesyounglover on March 28, 2009.

3 Responses to “sometimes, on the subway, i spill my life to strangers…”

  1. I’m always afraid that fortune tellers are dealing some dark shit.

    But I am totally for the whole summer of self-worth thing. Do it, baby.

  2. Ahahahahaha! This story is hilarious. And deep. DEEEEEEEEEEEP. But not dirty.

  3. Let’s all sing some Cher!


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