Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Sulfur Poison

After watching American Idol (for the first time) at Vlada, listed as a “Gorgeous gay lounge designed to look like a railroad car w/ 15 special infused vodkas and the only ice bar in the city, plus a full menu”, (I had club soda), I felt like how someone must feel after watching their first snuff film.

Look, I’m all for talented singers from the heartland getting their chance to shine. It’s fabulous. But it’s the lack of originality that makes me want to put an ice pick through someone’s something.

And that panel with the commentary? A nice happy black man, a nurturing middle aged woman and that snarky Brit? Really? That’s the shtick? Give me Lawrence Welk.

Anyway, the bar was kind of cool and I left about 9:00 and got on the subway back to Queens. Lying on a seat was a homeless guy, ass to the aisle. But not the smelliest homeless person. So, everyone is sitting on the train when suddenly there is a smell of sulfur that was so strong it reminded me of Seacaucus in 1971. I thought it just couldn’t be the homeless guy, could it? The entire car was loaded with the stench. Passengers from end to end pulled their shirts over their noses. It was so strong, I figured it had to be some sort of chemical fire somewhere that wafted in, or even, and this is when my heart started fluttering with some panic, some sort of Sarin or something even worse that someone let loose to kill us all. Shit. Death was near.

A lovely looking woman across from me, looking a bit like my ex-Sister-in-law, who looks a bit like Cher, walked over to the slider door to get out to go to the next car. She waited until we pulled into a station (the first one in Queens, so it was a bit of a haul under the East River) and she bolted to safety. I followed into the car wanting, of course, to live. She looked relieved. I felt the same way. I asked her, “What was that?” And she said, “The homeless guy was farting.” “Really? Really?” I was incredulous. She said, “He was farting.”

He filled up the car with his colon’s effluvial. And I did think, for just a few moments, that we were all dead people.

1 comment:

Rebecca Waring said...

I got on an elevator that smelled like that once. My main fear was that everyone thought it was me.