May 19, 2009

and I did it all in heels

"Hey dude, you look really queer in those pants."

If you can imagine a deflated hybrid of David Hasselhoff and Norm Macdonald, who happened to be a lecherous, half-unbuttoned shirt-wearing drunk, imagine this man saying this to my good friend, Henry.

Henry is wearing shorts. They aren't even that short or tight, as far as shorts go. Hasseldonald is skulking about a popular bar in Williamsburg, known for its roomy backyard and hip young patrons. Hasseldonald is an old silver fox who doesn't take well to this dim lighting.

"Uh yeah, well I am queer so that explains that," Henry retorts as HD affirms his unwelcome observation.

"Just letting you know how gay you look," he continues, walking on.
"OK cool, you old fuck. Die of AIDS, goodbye forever," Henry answers cheerfully, patting him on the arm.

After leaving another bar in favor of escaping the presence of an intolerably sloppy racist-spewing hipster with what I can only describe as an asymmetrically german haircut, to come to another one of the most frequented bars in Williamsburg and be harassed by this crusty old mad hatter was entirely too mindboggling to injest at the moment. The sheer unlikeliness made it forgetable enough in no time.

After staff politely bellowed that the bar was closing we made our way to the L, on our respective directions. I waved across platforms to the Manhattan-bound Henry and J. Not 5 minutes later, who should stumble onto my Brooklyn-bound than Hasseldonald.

I motioned to Henry, "Hey it's that guy!"
That guy then said, "Hey, it's that gay guy!"

What ensued was a 25 minute shouting match across platforms. Hasseldon was very nonchalantly advising my friend to stop being gay with the utmost raunchy vocabulary. At first I was bemused at how an individual this side of the Mason Dixon could be so outrightly and obnoxiously homophobic as well as an asshole. It was clear he has no respect for anyone. Men don't hate homosexuals because they love women, after all.

Everyone on either side of the platforms was absorbed in this scene, a girl next to Henry telling off this douchebag just as much. I looked apologetically to the few tired passengers who stood idly by, watching, some of them smirking.

When Hasseldouche continued on how Henry had just not had a proper bald pussy all up in his face, I found myself so apalled by this man's behavior that I couldn't help but turn to him sitting on the bench next to me and kindly tell him to shut the fuck up. I might have decked him. But I was afraid our bloods might mix and I am positive he has several cooties.

"Hey, your friend's alright," he leaned in and told me. "He just has to cut the bullshit and stop sucking dick."

"Don't talk to me. You're an asshole and you don't exist," I calmly replied.

Somehow it feels worse knowing that even if you did tell somebody off, it wouldn't change a thing and would just be a waste of your time and even if you stabbed them until they bled to death slowly, even when they're lying on concrete with their insides spilling out they wouldn't ever think about how horrible they've been. Just how they're pissed that their shirt is being ruined or something.

"I'm just trying to get her attention," he confided in me, pointing to the livid girl across the tracks, cursing his name with Henry. "She's just my type, I love blondes. Say, if I give you my number will you give it to her?"

"NO! No, I would never do that because you SUCK. You're the worst and everyone hates you here, you sad little man." I gave him my best withering stare.

"Dahh, worth a shot," he said, waving me off.

It was at this point I should have decked him and I may always regret not decking him.

The train arrived on our side first. A nervous-looking hipster next to me scuttled down the way far from us. I distanced myself from toxic Douche Mcgee down the platform as everyone across the tracks gloriously flipped the bird until the train passed between us.

I was mobbed by a group of onlookers who boarded the same car as I did and I recanted the idiotic tale.

It was the night no one would let us have any fun.


kateteej said...

you should introduce me to Henry. I think I'm in love.

Cole Mangano said...

and that is why billyburg is a dirty, self-paraising, waste of time