What would you do? What would you have done?

Aside from being hurt pretty badly from my doggie's bite. This weekend hasn't been my happiest moment in life.

Yes. My dog bit me.

He bit me hard.

His fang went though the center of my left-middle finger and punctured a whole. (and of course, there are other bite marks on both of my hands, but the middle finger suffered the most).

I bled all over the place.

Never less. I forgive him. He's only a kid. He doesn't know better.

When I got home from Pride. (Yes yes yes. I went to Pride, but only stayed for 2 hours. I will post pictures in the next entry) - I let the doggy out of the cage. (Yes yes yes, I locked him up for 6 hours after the bitten incident) Then I proceed to give him the 'cold-shoulder' treatment. Young puppies are terrified of being lonely and lack of campionship. That is what I learned from the books. So, I ignored him. I still feed him and re=fill his water when necessary. I still clean up his wee-wee pads and wipe the wee-spots on the floor. But I wouldn't look at him, or play with him.

Then he stopped eating.

He also stopped drinking water.

He just sat there, looking at me from afar.

After 2 hours. I gave up. I went to him and hugged him and smooched him all over.

He wagged his tail and jumped on me.

After 20 minutes, he went and ate his food.

Then he wee-ed all over the place.

But this post is not about my dog. Or my still-in-pain finger.

I want to talk about what happened to me this past Saturday on the [2] train.

I was heading to Penn Station from Brooklyn, after a long day of rehearsal crawling all over the floor and sofa at the Director's apartment. It had been a long day, and I didn't get much sleep in the prior night (Thanks to the Video Games). As soon as I got on the [2] Uptown train, I went into the sleeping mode. I know it's going to take about 20-30 minutes before I arrive at my destination.

Half-way through, a group of childern came on the train. They were like the typical loud-jump Jr. High-age kids. However, instead of chatting about school, teacher, movies, the boys were taking about banging each other's moms. And N*gger this and N*gger that.

I paid not attention. I continue my little nap then all of the sudden, I felt something hit my head. I opened my eyes, look around... and noticed the boys around me got quiet. (one of them hit me, duh!)

I ignored them. I took out my script and tried to memorize my lines. After 3 minutes or so, from the corner of my eye, I noticed a quick motion - followed by an another 'knock' on my head. I turned and looked at the African American boy.

I said loudly: "Can you please stop that?"

He looked at me.

His Hispanic friend giggled.

He said: "What?"

I said: "I SAW you. Can you keep your hands to yourself!!!???" (I wanted everyone on the train to hear me)

The kids looked away.

I went back to my script, trying to focuse. While the girls chatting away and the boys talk about whatever the next stop was.

For a while, I thought this stupid childish game would have ended - but as soon as the train arrived Houston Street - after all the other kids exited the door... The Hispanic boy held the door, reached in, and slapped me across the face.

At that split moment, my eyes were fuming. In my head, I could hear myself screamming:


I GOT SLAPPED.
I GOT SLAPPED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SH**************************T!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


I had the urge of jump up and grab the kid by his neck and smash his face against the pole. But as soon as I saw the face of the handsome blond hair man, in his late 30s, in a blue dress shirt that matches his light-blue eyes, who sat on the opposite side from me... I paused.

The kid ran out.

The doors closed.

The look on that man's face, as if he was thinking "I can't believe this happened. Little brats."

or rather "How foolish this Asian man is. Why didn't he just move to another seat when he had the chance?"

At the same time, I was thinking... "Crap. Witness."

I turned around, and everyone's head moved away - as if, they were observing the entire situation and was either trying not to laugh at me, or felt sorry for me.

I went back to my script and tried to focus... some more.

He's only a kid. He doesn't know better.