transexportational : part two

by mg at 12:57 PM on May 05, 2001

event two: boobies!

So, the second sexual / transportational event I've had in the last couple days (see this post for an explanation), involved gratuitous boobies. No, boobies can never be gratuitous, so I guess the second transexportational event just involved boobies.

I was on my way home from work one evening, and I was got on the subway and sat down like usual. The A Train, at 168 Street, heading downtown at about 6:30 is always going to be pretty empty. It is kind of nice that for that part of my trip, I don't have to worry about sweaty, stinky, ugly people rubbing up against me. I only like sweaty, stinky, ugly people rubbing up against me if I had to pay a $25 cover charge to get in.

Well, the train was empty, and as I sat down, I looked across the aisle and saw a lady with a sheet draped over herself. Now, that in and of itself is not at all out of the ordinary. There are enough people who live and sleep on the trains that to think they'd have a sheet or pillow with them is not all that bizarre. Then, as my brain started working again after a day of mind-numbing labour, I also saw the baby carriage and realised the woman sitting across from me must be new mom who was feeding her baby the old fashioned way, via the booby.

That isn't even that strange to see. It is natural and beautiful. Oh so very beautiful.

What sucked about it, from my perspective, is that this is the closest I've come to a naked booby in months. I mean, with the Internet, I can see boobies whenever I damn well feel like. Boobies of all shapes, sizes and colours. But like with the Greatful Dead, Memorex just doesn't compare to seeing them live and in person.

Eventually, feeding time was over. Kind of.

Mom may have been done with the milk-fest, but baby, who was actually pretty old, 18 months at least, wasn't done. She started crying. She slapped her mom in the face. She started pulling her mom's blouse off. She really wanted that teat. It was the funniest thing.

I wanted to get up and tell the kid that, from my 25 years of experience, crying, slapping and ripping has never gotten me to a booby, if the booby owner hasn't wanted me there.