Home > Adventures, My Everyday Life > my sonuvabitch ex boyfriend

my sonuvabitch ex boyfriend

I can’t seem to escape dram-a on the choochoo as of late. The week prior to X Games there was an all out brawl in the car behind mine. When the train stopped in Long Branch 10 cop cars and about 30 police were waiting to grab the perps. It was a pretty entertaining chain of events, but resulted in a $40, 30-minute cab ride from Long Branch to Manasquan with some Air Force Academy students and alum. They were an interesting crew to say the least and reminded me of newbies to the USAF, but also reminded me of why I didn’t stay around.

This past Friday night was another exceptional experience on New Jersey Transit. I attended class at the Jersey City Campus of the University of Phoenix and made it out by 9:30pm. I hustled down to the Pavonia Newport stop under my school’s building where I talked to a little blonde in her mid 30’s. No flirting here because she wasn’t my type, but just a friendly information exchange about station stops. We parted ways as the train became visible down the tracks. As the train pulled into the station, a woman on the platform screams, ”I’m going to kill my mother and that sonuvabitch ex-boyfriend of mine!!” I could not see the woman in question, so I brushed it off and followed the train as it opened its doors. I sat down in the middle of the first car with my iPod on and wondered if the torrette’s woman had made it onto my car. To my surprise and the surprise of everyone in the car, the little mid 30’s blonde that I had exchanged a quick convo with belts out “My mother is a bitch and I hate my sonuvabitch ex-boyfriend!” WE HAVE LOCATED CRAZYPANTS! She walks from the front of the car to the middle and sits directly across from me. She sits for a couple of seconds with a smile on her face and then spews out more hatred about her “bitch of an Aunt.” All the way to the next station she proclaims her hatred for various members of her family and that “sonuvabitch ex-boyfriend” of hers.

As we pull into Grove Street Station the entire car load of people moves back one car leaving her by herself in the first car. The train leaves Grove heading for Journal Square, my changeover for Newark Penn, and Crazypants decides that she doesn’t like being alone in her own personal car. She walks through the sliding doors and into the jam-packed second car where we all are. You can hear the whispers and giggles begin as she enters the car and makes her way to the middle where she is offered a seat only feet from where I stand. Behind me, the two Dominican guys are crying because just seconds ago they were mocking this poor woman. I admit to cracking a smile as they mocked, but just turned up my iPod and went back into my own world.

Crazypants sits just several feet from me, crying now, and begins her tirade about that BF of hers that has her so upset. Through her tears you could see something was really wrong and that this might be something more than self-expression. I’ve been around NYC and NJ Transit enough to experience rants like this so I shrugged it off until a couple of seconds later when she reached into her pocket.

I was in my own world jamming out to the new Sir Lucious Left Foot, Son of Chico Dusty aka Big Boi (one half of the Outkast) album. As I bobbed my head to “Back Up Plan” Crazypants, amidst her wild tears, pulled a 7” kitchen knife from her pocket and sat it on her thigh. Several of the women next to her screamed and people scrambled past the Dominicans and I to either side of the train car. A loan, chubby businessman sat next to her with his hands crossed and his eyes closed. I’m not sure if he was sleeping through this who ordeal or if he was merely praying, too nervous to move.

Crazypants gets cuffed

My mind went into a flurry as I ran an infinite amount of scenarios through my brain trying to find the proper response to this situation. The two Dominican guys walked up to either side of where I stood and looked at me like I knew what I was doing here. Don’t get me wrong, I have some training in basic hand to hand combat as well as more than a handful of bar fights under my belt, but never anything involving a blade. Immediately I thought about kicking her in the face and going for the knife, but I didn’t want to hurt her if there was more to this scene. What if she missed a dosage of her meds or was just a troubled person looking for help? Her day would be that much worse if I just kicked her in the face. I know I wouldn’t like it, but then again I don’t pull knives on trains.

Already a self-proclaimed sweaty dude, my deodorant had run its course and now I’m left thinking of alternative options. What about a throat chop? I joke about these with friends, but I’ve executed one or two of these in my day. Walk away? Talk to her? I had my longboard with me and thought about pinning her arm with the board while getting the Dominicans to help restrain her. Once again, I went on to rethink this possible lawsuit and wait for her to act before having to use one of the scenarios I had run in my dome.

I'm being raped

While all this was going on someone had alerted the conductor of the train who in turn had called the police. He entered the car now from the rear and approached the situation. He politely said, “Ma’am you are making some of the passengers nervous, could you please put the knife away?” His voice was like a Barry White tune, you know that soothing, bass-filled voice that seemed to calm the woman down. She looked up at him as if she had just snapped out of some thought then proceeded to put the knife back into her pocket. The train slowly pulled into Journal Square and as this happened she ran for the door, pulling violently to open them and jump from the train. When the doors wouldn’t budge she smashed her face off of the glass repeatedly screaming and crying more. The conductor pushed her against the doors and as the train stopped, he pushed her into the arms of the police waiting at the station. It took three cops to restrain her and get her cuffed.

The rest of the passengers including myself were let out once she was detained and greeted the police and conductor with a round of applause. They escorted her to the nearest elevator where she promptly smashed her face off the stainless steel doors all while screaming she was being raped. It was a surreal scene that seemed like it went on for so long but lasted mere minutes.

good luck knife lady, thanks for an interesting night

I felt bad for even thinking about kicking her in the face to get the knife, especially since we had talked not 10 minutes earlier like normal people do. During our short convo, there was no indication of anything less than a happy mid 30s woman jamming out to her iPod. Glad there were no throat chops, face kicks, or stabbings on this Friday night on NJ Transit. I like a little excitement on my Friday nights, but possible knifings is where I draw the line. No late night Transit for me this weekend so maybe things will just run normal, however, I’ll be back on the train the following Friday.

I hope she got right and I hope that sonuvabitch ex-boyfriend of hers didn’t get knifed over the last week. Deep breaths and counting to ten usually helps me from knifing people. In hindsight I probably should have suggested these methods to her. Next time.

  1. September 2, 2010 at 10:27

    wow, i’m so excited that we moved to jersey city.

    • September 2, 2010 at 10:51

      isolated incident Im sure, but weird nonetheless. Just keep some pepper spray on you while in JC.

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