Last night a woman got on the subway wearing a…
Last night a woman got on the subway wearing a blue denim backpack. Soon afterwards, strange noises began to sound inside the car. At first I thought it was someone’s phone, but I’ve never heard a phone sound like a captive animal before (though I’m sure it won’t be long). The noises were coming from the woman’s backpack, and whenever they started she would rock back and forth to make the backpack, which hung down to her thighs, hit her over and over. This seemed to lessen the noise somewhat.
This continued a couple of stops until CKS Hall, when the bag began to bark. Everyone in the car stared. The woman’s ruse was blown; she had to admit she had a dog in her backpack, so she brought it up and opened the top to let the dog’s head out. I was surprised at the size of the animal; this wasn’t just a mini dog you see inside some women’s purses next to their tissue packs. It must have either had a disproportionally large head or been a contortionist. The woman got off at the next stop.
Last Sunday, after a grueling 3 a.m. shoot the night before, I got up and went to Costco with Harry, Mark and Mario. After stocking up on goodies and waiting to get out, an explosion of fury in the group ahead of us splattered several innocent bystanders with coca-cola. Apparently someone had bumped someone else, and someone else lost it and struck out with enough speed and force to produce airborn condiments. The two men struggled as groceries went flying and the two wives tried to keep the seething combatants apart. The whole checkout area went silent as everyone stared at the inconguous scene. Maybe one of the guys had just watched Fight Club and really took it to heart. Whatever it was, the excitement was over in a minute, and the coke-splattered sales staff, chequers and credit card salesmen turned their attention back to work.
