Only my fourth day on "the rail" (that's what all the kids are calling it these days (and by the kids I mean probably just me and 3 other dorks)) and I'm already an outlaw. There was only one machine accepting money in exchange for rail tickets, and it was not in the mood to do any trading or even bartering. So the old man behind me and I boarded the train with collaborating alibis in the event that we were stopped by the DART SS. They don't play around either, because half of them are cops and they do carry guns. On a train. Asking for tickets. Just like in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Getting the SS reference now?
The old man insisted on sitting almost uncomfortably close to me on the train when there was plenty of room to be shared by all in the event we were approached for our non-existent stubs. I know what you're thinking now. He did not oogle or even touch me in my bathing suit area. He read the newspaper. The business section. He was legit.
Other than that the ride to work was relatively normal. EXCEPT for the dude who was eye fucking (iFucking) my eye iPhone and decided to coincidentally get off the train as I began to pick up my bag and stand up. I totally hopped off and old lady speed walking through a mall my way out of there like a little bitch.
Here's a picture from my ride home. Let's play "see if you can actually see the really funny thing in this photo".
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Give up? Ok. The black dude with the baggy pants who is the second from the bottom on the right. While it was pretty funny that he looked like an older Snoop Dogg with aviator glasses, that's not why I snapped the pic. See the black ring around the back of his neck?
That's his hair.
His only hair. A 2 inch strip of hair at the bottom of his bald head. It's like a ghetto version of the classic rat tail hair style. This has to have a name, after all we named the mullet. I propose "Gangstache". Gangsta in the front, mustache in the back.
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