But they’re just so damn entertaining (Part III)
This one is an oldy but goody.
Several years ago on Christmas Eve, I was on my way to long island via the 6 train. I was waiting on the platform for the E at 51st wearing my OPB bag looking all kinds of tired minding my own business.
This dude walks by looks at me, looks at my letters and comes back. Now I don’t normally wear letters whilst out and about in the city. As the man approached I thought he was a fellow greek that would then ask me the litany of greek questions: where did you pledge, what semester, what number are you, do you know so and so?
The man approached and asked, “what letters are those?” i told him and he nodded (no clue wtf i was talking about), then proceeded to ask all kinds of questions about me. I really didn’t try engage and gave short answers but he persisted.
The train and came and he asked if i was getting on or if I could stand on the platform and talk a little longer. I told him no, I had someplace to be. He asked if he could get on the train too. I said, “it’s a free country.”
This man sat on the train next to me and asked me if i went to school. I said yes. He asked if I finished. ::side eye:: “of course, i said.” He said he went to school too but left after a semester. pause.
He asked what my major was. I told him Africana studies. He then proceeded to tell me that was racist. ::side eye::
Apparently as he explained to me studying African and African American history and whatnot was racist because your focus is on this one group however that isn’t a bad thing because “racism” is actually a positive word that means love and appreciation of ones culture. [i’m paraphrasing of course].
I let him baubber on for a bit because I saw the train was approaching 34th. I got up and said, “this is me, have a nice one.” And he of course got up and walked with me.
Now he started talking about how beautiful I was and how I looked like I would make beautiful children. Yup. Apparently he has this amazing insight into the capabilities of my ovaries and uterus,
Anyhoo he carries on about how he isn’t like other guys. He doesn’t play around. He doesn’t date multiple girls. Blah blah. [I swear walking from the E to the turnstile took forever]
He tells me that he’s looking for his future wife and from what he can see I look like I would bear beautiful children. Now i’m finally at the turnstile so to be polite and stop him from following me further I say, “hey give me your number because I gotta go.” He goes ok, then pauses.
Ahem….He reminds me that he doesn’t play around and he’s looking for a potential wife. I go, “ok.” Then he says that he has to ask me a very important question before he can give me his number.
Now at this point I could have just left but I felt like I owed it to myself to hang in there because this would make a hilarious story and I wasn’t a quitter!
I sighed and said, “what, I have to go.”
He says to me straight-faced, “As I said, I’m looking for my future wife. So I need to know. Are you….pure?”
“What?”
“Are you a virgin? The woman I marry must be a virgin.”
I kind of thought he was taking it there but I think I had to hear it to really believe it.
“First of all you are a stranger to me and second of all I do not feel comfortable discussing such matters at the turnstile in Penn Station. You have a good day and good luck finding a virgin on the train.”
As I walked towards Penn I could still hear him asking me to answer the question. Not today sir. Not today.
This just made my night…lol I am not at all surprised!