Thursday, March 30, 2006


I started writing this entry on 3/27 - but didn't get to finish it...


Well, it certainly had been a while since I last something that's like, a real blog entry (And how come no one offer to spank me?)

It was last night, riding on the train from the city - to - home.
That I met Mr. O

Usually on Sundays, I'd be spending most of my day at the rehearsal - then after that, which is usually around 8:00pm, I would take the train home.

Last night was a dressed rehearsal. So I had my leather cuff, semi-baggie pants, black shirt, blingy dog tag, hard nipples and sprayed-blonde spikey hair. (Hot, isn't it? I know. I had the urge to do myself too. - Just Kidding)

So I sat at the first cabin.

The train was pretty empty. I think in the first cabin, there were probably 5 people sitting.

At where I'm sitting, I was the only passenger in the area.

After a couple stops, Mr. O boarded the train. He was about 6'2, weights around 210lbs. Dark hair, Dark eyes, with natural curls.
Actually, the first thing I noticed about him, was the fact that he had two hearing-aids on bot sides of his ear.

He looked at me as he came to the front cabin.

I raised my head, looked up, then back to my book.

Mr. O then sat on the other side of the cabin.

Approx. 40 seconds after the train started to move, I've noticed Mr. O signal something at me with his hands.

Me: "Yes?"

Mr. O made some movements with his hands.

Me: "I'm sorry, I don't know Sign Language. What do you need?"

Mr. O made more movements.

Me: "It's 10:44."

Mr. O gesutred something... Something to write on.

Me: "Paper. Okay, hold on."

I pulled out my notebook and handed it to him.

He pull out his pen and wrote something on my notebook, and passed it back to me.

Can I join you?

I looked at him and said... "Uh, Sure."

He then sat jumped over and sat across from me.

The way he looked at me, made me feel a bit uneasy.

Then we exchanged the following notes:

Hi. I'm O.

Hi. I'm Chun Juan.
(Hey, I'm Chinese. I can get away with anything.)

Nice Meeting you.

Nice Meeting you too.

I'm very shy.

Okay. I'm not shy.

So how old are you?



No. I'm 32.
(Hey, I'm a B*tch. I can get away with anything.)

He's jaw dropped like crazy. Eyes popping out. Starring right at me.

No way! For Real?

Why not? So how old are you?


Are you 27?



No. Lower.


Yes. 22.

Okay. Sorry, I always assume people are around my age.

Are you single?

I'm a big girl. I've been around. And I can really feel where this is going... I mean, come on, what type of people who are only interested in Name, Age, and Status when meeting a person?

Mr. O's probably a regular with online chatrooms.

Married. Just not wearing my ring tonight.

And he looked simply - very disappointed. (Uh, I thought I looked butch and dangerous in my 'makeup' - was I that fem-fem? Or was it the glitter I mixed with my hair dye?)

I'm Single.

I know.

So what do you do?

Insurance. You?

Marketing Department at XXXXXXXXXXXXX.

That's nice. So where are you going?


So you work in the city.

Go to school and work in the city.

I work in Jersey.

He looked confused.

New Jersey. West of Manhattan.

He nodded.

At the same time, I noticed the train will arrive at my station within the next 2 minutes, so I wrote slowly...

Well, Mr. O, it was a pleasure meeting you. However, I have to cut our conversation shore, because... As you may have guessed. My station is here. I wish you good night and safe trip home. Bye bye.

I waved.

I got off the train.

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