I had kind of a bad morning on Friday. My shower schedule was messed up, it was cold, I was grumpy. As I sat on the V fake sleeping we pulled into the 34th street stop. A homeless man walked into my train and not only changed my day but damn near changed my life.
"Who here is going to work today?" He asked in a happy, booming voice.
There was no response from the fairly empty car. Probably because only 10 out of the 20 of us in the car were comprehensive of the english language.
"From that response, I'm guessing all of you. You all look miserable. You should be like me -
I'm drrrunk!" he proclaimed this in laughed happily to himself, "I have been drunk a looooong time ain't that crazy? Well it ain't because I'm happy!"
He pointed to a man in a suit and said, "Hey Wall Street let me guess, you work in finance?"
"No," the man laughed.
"Well, then you should get drunk with me today. I'm a good guy." He then turned his focus back to the rest of the car, "I want to let you folks know that I am a Christian, and a pimp. " This statement was said so profoundly that I knew he was only going to get better from this point forward.
I took out my cell phone and started texting myself what he was saying while I held in my giggles.
"I'm not making this up people," he went on to say, "women love pimps. Christian women love pimps, you can ask them. They'll lie, not very Christ-like. But those Christian women love pimps. Trust me on that. Stay poor and be happy. Work hard and you're all miserable. Suit," he turned back to his suited pal, "you got a wife or girlfriend?"
"No," the man continued to play along.
"I'm gonna get you a lady, because after all, I am a Christian, and a pimp. How about that lady over there. She probably likes assholes. Women like assholes too. Listen to me suit. I know this stuff, I'm not just a drunk. I'm a pimp! And I'm telling you, that lady over there is your women. Hey! Phone girl. Phony! Aww man all women are phony, too. Suit, remember that. Miss! Miss! Aw she thinks she's cute. Only the pimp is cute."
At this point, I realize he might be talking about me. I turned around to get a look at the guy. He caught me looking at him and I looked away.
"Aww Phony don't do that. I see you looking at me."
I looked back again and smiled.
"Look at THAT you are beautiful! Do you see that Suit? Hey Beautiful, are you Irish?"
"Not really," I replied. Not wanting to explain my muttness to him.
"Well, you should tell those folks at the parade next year you are Irish. They need more beauty in that parade. I tried last year to march along with my beautiful self and you know what they did to me? They said, 'you are an American Negro' and they cracked a bottle of whiskey over my head! I still got the scar. But ya know what? I didn't care because I had all that whiskey pouring over my head."
By this time I was at my stop, and was making my way towards the exit.
"Beautiful! I want you to know something, you are something else. Let me give you some advice - Don't be afraid to be poor, be happy. Oh, and marry a dark skinned man, ya got that beautiful?"
I nodded, laughed, and walked on to work.
Thanks for the advice dude. Oh, wait - I mean Mr. Christian Pimp.