NANCY BOY AND THE TRAIN-CAR OF CONVICTS

“Train’s full up. No need to shop for two unoccupied seats together. There’s an open seat here.”

That was the voice of the middle aged male train conductor pointing to an empty seat next to a man in white.

“Dude, do you have a cell phone I could use?”

That was the voice of the parolee I was forced to sit next to on the train ride to Chicago.

“No, I don’t.”

That was me, lying through my almost pearly white teeth.

“Rae, it is 32 degrees in Chicago. 32 degrees is right at freezing.”

and

“Rae, Chicago is the 3rd largest city in the United States. Los Angeles is number two and New York is number one.”

and

“Interesting fact, however: Chicago has the third largest population but the greatest number of cabs per capita.”

That was the voice of the crazy-ass Grandpa giving his pre-teen granddaughter –and everyone within a stone’s throw — a running commentary about the Windy City.

“Attention Amtrak passengers: just a reminder that this train is a NON-smoking train. Any passengers caught smoking, will be getting off at the next stop where they will be delivered into the loving arms of the authorities and charged with a criminal violation. Thank you for riding Amtrak.”

That was the voice of the very irritated lady train conductor who was in the mood for no shit from the some three dozen parolees on the train.

RING! RING RING!

That was the sound of my cell phone roughly thirty minutes after I told the tattooed ex-con with the nicotine twitches beside me I was not in possession of a cell phone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

NANCY BOY AND THE TELEVISION THAT COULDN’T FLY

I was just rounding the corner on my way back from the Jewel when I heard him.

“Don’t do it!” The very skinny white man’s voice was shrill as he stood on the sidewalk looking up at a second floor apartment window.

“Do what?” asked the beautiful cocoa skinned woman looking out the window in question and balancing a 27 inch television on the ledge.

“C’mon, baby, I’m asking nice — don’t drop my tv! Please!!” The man was dancing from foot to foot like a child begging for a toy at the local Wal-mart.

“Fuck you, you cheatin’ little bitch.”

CRASH!!

That was the sound of the television meeting the ice covered pavement.

And ever the intrepid boi blogger, I whipped out my camera phone to capture the carnage for you good people.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

NANCY BOY AND THE REALLY OLD CONDOMS

After attending Friday night’s performance of CAGED DAMES (loved the changes David, and BC — you need to take the Sheila Mercury show on the road!), I went out for drinks with Aaron. I was a little out of it (bleeding in the brain will do that, you know), and even though I thought I lost my earmuffs and gloves several times over in a 30 second span of time, Aaron was a perfect gentleman and pretended not to notice. He also acted as though it was perfectly normal to go full tilt Terry Schiavo after 3 Miller Lites. When he dropped me off, all my paraphernalia — and by paraphernalia I mean my Listerine strips, my Zicam, my lip balm, and ball point pen — fell out of my pocket and onto the street. I remember releasing a volley of curse words as I picked them up, all the while leaving his car door open and mumbling. I can’t be certain, but I’m sure there was an audible sigh of relief when I finally babbled some totally incoherent farewell. (On second thought, blow to the head or not, I’m pretty fucking stupid like that so maybe he thought nothing of it…)

I was halfway to Sissy’s when my cell rang.

“Dirk, baby, how long you gonna be before you get back here?”

“Um…why?”

Sissy collapsed into the giggles of ecstasy. “Nigel’s here, gurl, and we want to get freaky…”

“Say no more,” I slurred. “I’ll go grab a few beers and see what’s shaking at the bars.”

Now, I really wanted to go to the North End because they were having a spelling bee (don’t ask me) but it was packed and I hate crowds so I went to another bar instead. I had a few beers, met a man who actually wanted to talk about things other than the portable sling and collection of hoods back at his place — hi, Scott! — and had a few more beers. 4 more I think. Which officially meets my alcohol limit for the year, as it turns out.

Now as is my way — even though I am knee deep into the Celebration of Celibacy — I always partake of the condoms in the fishbowls offered outside of the men’s room.

Even in my dain-bramaged/inebriated state, I noticed there was something amiss about the handful of condoms I helped myself to. Something that didn’t seem quite right. Had the blow to the head actually sent me to the way back machine? I stared at them for a moment, then pocketed them. The next morning — or rather later that morning — I took another look. No, I hadn’t imagined it.

Oh, well…it’s not like I was going to use them anyway. (But if I change my mind, the promotional cardboard wrapper may be old, but the latex shields inside them are good until June of 2009.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

NANCY BOY AND THE REALLY SAD TRIP HOME

The two teens were seated behind me on the train home. As we waited to depart, they verbally sparred. The taller of the two resembled a young Chris Farley and had the same loud, over dramatic gestures. The other was more reserved, with a biting sense of humor. “Chris” lamented how badly his interview had gone and how he was just a fat guy who would be going back to his home town because he wasn’t good enough. His friend told him he thought he’d done a great job and to quite stressing.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better because I’m fat,” replied Chris.

As the train began backing out of the station, Chris’s cell phone rang. He spoke softly for a few minutes, then hung up.

“I’M GOING TO LOS ANGELES! I’M GONNA BE AN ACTOR! YES!!!!!”

The whole car laughed.

Acting school. I had assumed it was a college interview. I’m so unimaginative that way.

Once the excitment wore off and reality hit, Chris as he realized he would need $1600 just to go to the actor’s summer camp.

“Dude, we’ll figure it out. We’ve got until May,” his friend offered. “This is gonna happen!”

“I can’t believe this,” Chris said. “The lady said I have natural talent and she wants to work with me in the actor’s camp this summer to make me great when I audition for the school in the fall.” He took a beat. “YES!!! Even if I don’t go, at least now I know I am good enough! I am so pumped! I’m gonna call T and tell her to pass the word around.”

As Chris dialed T and began regaling her with his great news, his friend’s cell phone rang. As Chris got louder and louder, his friend began saying less and less.

“Dude, was that the lady?” Chris asked, after dispatching T to chain dial their friends.

“Yeah. She said I have some natural instinct, but she doesn’t think I’m good enough to go to LA. She said she doesn’t want me to go and mess up when I get there.”

Chris got really quiet.

“Dude, that sucks because you are so much better than me,” Chris said softly.

About 20 minutes into the trip, Chris spoke again. “You know, there’s no way I can go this summer, dude. $1600 is a lot of money and I can’t ask my folks. I’ll get another job and we can audition again next summer. Take a year off and save up, you know?”

“No, you need to do this, man. This could be your big break.”

“I just really wish you had made it instead of me. You’re just so much better and you want it more…”

Again, silence.

Just before my stop, I heard Chris tell his friend, “You know, I been thinking and every big star gets rejected their first time out, dude. Then they worked harder and got rich. That’s gonna be you…”

As I got off the train, I took a last look back at the teens. I could see Chris’s sadness for his friend and his friend’s disappointment. Even though I didn’t know either of them, my heart hurt for both of them.

I know how it feels to realize the thing you want more than anything isn’t going to happen. I know how it feels to realize that the first few threads of an important friendship are dissolving as life takes you in different directions. And I know how it feels to say and do what you need to make that break easier for the other person.

I wish both those guys a ton of luck. Life’s hard enough without a good friend by your side.