People Watching

I love to people watch. It's uber fun if you have an active and running imagination...and what better place to invoke and nurture this hobby than the great high rise packed, trash and urine smelling, bitchy city of New York?

Now, do not confuse "People Watching" with being a "People Person". They are entirely two separate entities. "People watching" is first of all a verb; an action. While being a People Person is a noun; a person, place or thing. Just like "Mother Fucker". Being a people person means you like people and in NYC there is no such thing.

Observance is a very important characteristic to have in order to do it right, for "people watching" is not as literal as its title deems it to be. You have to hone in on individuals, know how to single out the interesting ones from the mediocre stories. Everyone has a story and most people wear theirs. Whether its through clothing, accessories, body type, or even the way they walk. The story is there.

Long ago, on a far far place called the G train platform, I was witness to a live action calvin klein/hipster/grunge ad. A guy in typical skinny jeans and plaid shirt hipster uniform was idly standing next to his companion who at first glance I took to be a sour looking asian female. She had hair like Morticia Adams, red skinny pants (which are cool, cause I also own a pair. Thanks Mom!) Blue/Black plaid shirt and tennis sneakers. I have never seen a more depressing and hygienically challenged couple. In my mind, Asian Morticia and her compatriot (let's call him "Hippy") had just fought before leaving the studio loft apartment they share somewhere in the depths of hipster Brooklyn. They were heading to a friend's rooftop barbecue to celebrate the fourth of July (I recall that I was doing the same except I had a much better disposition), she had made a snipe about Hippy's choice in attire and he then started lamenting and complaining how she only ever criticizes and that he's tired of being in a one sided relationship. Asian Morticia dismisses his cries as petty and he sucks back in his balls and they leave to hop onto the G train; the happiest fucking train on earth.
Upon exiting the station, my friends and I discussed whether or not Asian Morticia was in fact a dude. But it really doesn't matter if indeed Asian Morticia was in fact Asian Morty, my back story stays in tact.

The other day I was chillin on the 6 train when three single white females boarded and sat directly across from me. Like stealing candy from a baby....a sleeping baby. TOO EASY! From left to right: Girl #1: Blonde, short, like a boring version of Amy Poehler; made me recall my stabbing incident (see My Beef with Heels) very mousy. I instantly felt annoyed. Girl #2 Brunette, thicker than her friends, was wearing snakeskin shoes that looked old. Boring. Girl #3 Jackpot! This was a dyed blonde with roots, she had an air of having fashion sense, but the best part was the obvious sunburn on her chest. Why was it obvious? Because the neckline of her top was at least a full inch below her tan/burn line. I don't care how hot you think you look...that ruins it. I couldn't stop looking at that gaping yellow rim of skin. It also did not go well with the gray and black colors of her top, which just made her look more like she was wearing a jaundice necklace. Poor idiotic thing. Maybe they'd get drunk and take lots of pictures (all from high angles cause they'd be taking it themselves) and she'll look through them later and be blinded by the glare of the flash off her stark tan line.

Anyways....so back to the point which was (quick scroll back to the top) People Watching. So you may have noticed that one of the best places for such an activity is the subway. Cause you don't even have to physically move. The people come to YOU.