I probably have better stories about my trip but the one that sticks out to me now happened a couple nights ago.
Gia and I were coming back from seeing her family in Rhode Island. The bus was nauseatingly hot. We slept uncomfortably until we were let off in Midtown. The cold air was refreshing and we took a slow walk to the subway. Underground our train came quickly and sat down for an hour long trip home. We decide to take the time, now away from family and the exhaustion of holidays, to zone out with our respected music. Halfway though my TV on The Radio album our train hit major delays.
An extra thirty minutes and we're above ground on the open air track in Brooklyn. The night skyline is beautiful, Gia and I finally feel recharged from the long weekend away. Our stop comes and we get up to leave. Gia walks out the doors and I trail behind with my roller suitcase. A black woman who has been sitting across from us for the last hour also stands up. As I began to exit the subway, I look back at my rolling luggage and notice this woman is now staring at me. As I break the threshold of the train car, the woman spits at my face and in a deep and angry voice grunts "Asshole".
The door closes. I have spit on me. We walk home.
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