Wednesday, August 27, 2003

Walking on the Sapphire Floor

On the subway, I patiently hold onto the metallic handle provided for the passengers. Looking at the LED sign hanging from above, I though to myself.

Good. I can still catch the Train.

With every stop, more people marched in and pushed me further back toward the entrance on the opposite side. Due to lack of air circulation, the aroma of sweaty human bodies quickly filled up the air.

Two more stops. Two more stops.

Then I noticed at the direction where my right hand is, stood a tall handsome fella.

Status? Okay, he’s around 5’11 tall, 160 lbs., strawberry blond hair, and light blue eyes. He was wearing a Kenneth Cole dress shirt with faded red strips, dark khaki pants, black leather belt with gold buckle, and a pair of black shoes. He had button down his shirt, exposing his chest to open air. (In this case, the stuffy aromas)

He’s pretty good looking. As if he can starring in his very own Old Spice commercial. However, either he has been drinking or really got exposed to the sun, he was red from the forehead down to his chest. I mean, he looked like a walking tomato.

Anyway. In the very little space giving on the subway, everyone was leaning against each other. It just happened, that he was leaning against the pole that my right hand was holding onto. During the time before the subway arrives at Penn Station, the back of my hand was totally rubbing against his rib. (Yes. Rib cage, the area above the belly button, blow the nipples, and a little under the arm pit.) Okay, that area.
His skin was very warm. Though the thin layer of the shirt, I can sense every breath he takes.

My right knuckle rubbed against his body along with the subway movements.

Does he mind? I mean, does he know that he is leaning on my hand, not the pole?

So at the second stop before my destination, I moved my right hand a little to let him know that he was leaning on something that is living. Apparently, he didn’t care much. He didn’t move or back off. He maintained his position, and seem to be careless of the situation.

Oh, what the heck. I guess I’ll just kept on rubbing my knuckle against his body. Oh yeah baby, bring it on. (And no, we didn’t exchange eye contacts. He looked pretty blanked out. I was too shy to look at his direction anyway.)

So the subway arrived at the Penn Station. I rushed down the stair, cutting, dodging though the people like a ninja, and made my way to platform 18. (Catching the train is more important than checking out the tomato guy.)

Phew. Just in time.

But the train was packed with people. I walked from cart to cart to find empty seats. I mean, I usually don’t mind standing, but I was really tired. I just had to sit down.

Right after I stepped into this cart, I noticed something unusual.

This car is darker than the most. I mean, all the lights were lit up, but there were shades of darkness surrounding the entire cart. The air was filled with an unusual aroma. Different from the sweaty body scent… This one was more… Clean. But I couldn’t figure what kind of scent it was.

Then I look down on the floor… The floor was blue. Some areas had darker shades of wet stain.
Great, someone spilled the Gatorade on the ground. (Probably the FIERCE flavor, since it contains dark purple/blue food color.)

Damn, someone must have spilled a case of Gatorade. They are all over the place.

So, I made my way down the walkway. I was expecting the floor to be sticky. But it wasn’t. And the air is suppose to very citrus-ishy, like the Gatorade. But this CLEAN smell was nothing like it.

People who have already been sitting down seem not bothered by the unusual atmosphere. So, I joined them. I found an empty seat near the entrance to the next cart. Sat my butt down, and leaned my head back and let out a brief sigh.

All of the sudden, my brain start to work as if I had a fresh cup of coffee. I remembered it. Yes. I knew it.

The CLEAN smell is just like our toilet bowl cleaner.

And its blue!

I turned my head to the right.

“Restroom” – the sign reads.

I didn’t even realized that I was sitting next to the restroom.

My eyes followed from the “Restroom” sign down to the floor. Then I saw a bunch of blue liquid flooding out of the edge of the door.

ACK! Someone flooded the toilet!

In my head, I had the image of someone took a long and big dump in the toilet, and was unable to flush it down. So, all the pee, poop, and chemical flooded out and made their way to conquire the entire cart.

I jumped up, grabbed my bag, and fled into the next cart.

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