Mars is totally in retro-grade.
I never was a big believer in that whole planetary-motion notion (don't get me wrong, the first thing I read in "Glamour" is my horoscope), but now I'm a believer.
Crazy sh*t is happening.
Within one hour of waiting for, and subsequently boarding, the B-train home the other night, I was privy to overhear both of these conversations:
1)
Obvious semi-mentally unwell woman to poor clerk who runs the magazine/candy stand on the Rockefeller Center Station platform:
Woman: "Five packets of Tylenol PM."
Clerk: (goes to get the meds) "That'll be $3.50, ma'am."
Woman: (gives Clerk a $5)
Clerk: (goes to get her change)
Woman: GIVE ME MY CHANGE! MY CHANGE!
Clerk: (just stares at her, like, lady, that's exactly what I'm doing right now.)
Woman: "You give me my change. Stop clownin' (as in, clowning around.)! Stop your clownin'! You think you such a clown."
(Now, other people start taking notice. Not because it would be odd to see an actual clown on the subway, but because we worried this woman would jump over the counter and start strangling the poor clerk who was approximately 1/3 her size).
The clerk gets her change to her as quickly as he can, and she tells him once again what a clown he is.... "You always playin' the clown with me. Stop clownin'!" Finally satisfied that she has made him realize the error of his "clownin'" ways, she puts her change and Tylenol away, takes two steps, and then turns back to him and with gusto yells, "THE CIRCUS IS OVER, P.T. BARNUM!"
Hysterical.
At this point, I stop thinking of this woman as straight-up crazy because she just gave me a new, hilarious, snarky and brilliant "final word." If you're half as sarcastic as I am, you'll appreciate this. If someone is acting a fool, quite simply remind them the circus is over. That'll surely show them.
2)
While still silently laughing about Tylenol PM Hoarder telling off the mute Clerk, I had the great opportunity of sitting right next to a couple that was completely HAMMERED. They apparently had stayed at the guy's workplace happy hour far past the time they had both agreed to leave. The woman, who had a hard time keeping her head up, was furious at her boyfriend, who, also semi-concisous, had taken her Chap-Stick from her and thrown it across the street.
I felt this girl's pain because I myself am a Chap-Stick addict... hell, I would have left his sorry-self and headed across the street to retrieve it... but, I guess that never crossed her mind...
Girlfriend: "WHY??? WHY did you do that? (head bobs around for a minute) You.....you know how much I need my Chap-Stick! Why did you throw it across the road??!!"
Boyfriend: (doesn't speak, but looks like he knows he's in deep shit, then proceeds to fumble through his pants pockets and reveals HIS Chap-stick for her to use).
Girlfriend: "That's not the cherry kind you, a**hole!!!"
(agreed, Cherry is the superior Chap-Stick)
She resigns to the fact that her Cherry Chap-Stick is long gone, she has to get up for work in 4 hours and that her boyfriend is an idiot, and falls asleep on his shoulder.
Adorbs.
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And, in addition to all of this, opossums are now riding the D-Train:
Grrrrrreat.
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-B.



