Today was legit chilly. Rainy and chilly. I loved it. Seeing people in sweaters and jackets felt normal today. But there once was a time I wouldn't have felt so at peace with those sights...
june [don't remember the date] 2011: Standing there in the subway station, I looked (but probably didn't smell) like I had just taken a shower. My face was wet and sticky, my shirt was damp, my feet were sliding all over my sandals, my hair was dripping. I had resorted to carrying around a sweat-rag. Yes. A sweat-rag. And it was soaked. Needless to say, I looked hot. (Forgive me, Father, for I have punned.)
My overheated brain started whirring. "Am I the sweatiest one here?" turned into "Do I have a condition?" and "Are people disgusted by me?" and "Will they avoid me on the subway?" and "Is Keith Sweat my soulmate?" and "Aziz Ansari will never want to hook it up with a sweaty Indian chick" and "Great, now I have to dig a hole in the ground and live there until the Apocalypse."
I looked around to make sure everyone else looked as gross as I did, hoping to quell my fears. Soggy tourists? Yes! Moist natives? Yes! Sticky hipsters? Yessssss. The dank Cloud of Doom was lifting -- then I looked to my left.
I saw a woman. A tiny woman. A tiny Asian woman. A tiny Asian woman IN A CARDIGAN. A tiny Asian woman IN A CARDIGAN who DID NOT HAVE ONE DAMN DROP OF SWEATY DEW ON HER DAMN FACE.
Why, God?!
WHY? =(
june [don't remember the date] 2011: Standing there in the subway station, I looked (but probably didn't smell) like I had just taken a shower. My face was wet and sticky, my shirt was damp, my feet were sliding all over my sandals, my hair was dripping. I had resorted to carrying around a sweat-rag. Yes. A sweat-rag. And it was soaked. Needless to say, I looked hot. (Forgive me, Father, for I have punned.)
My overheated brain started whirring. "Am I the sweatiest one here?" turned into "Do I have a condition?" and "Are people disgusted by me?" and "Will they avoid me on the subway?" and "Is Keith Sweat my soulmate?" and "Aziz Ansari will never want to hook it up with a sweaty Indian chick" and "Great, now I have to dig a hole in the ground and live there until the Apocalypse."
I looked around to make sure everyone else looked as gross as I did, hoping to quell my fears. Soggy tourists? Yes! Moist natives? Yes! Sticky hipsters? Yessssss. The dank Cloud of Doom was lifting -- then I looked to my left.
I saw a woman. A tiny woman. A tiny Asian woman. A tiny Asian woman IN A CARDIGAN. A tiny Asian woman IN A CARDIGAN who DID NOT HAVE ONE DAMN DROP OF SWEATY DEW ON HER DAMN FACE.
Why, God?!
WHY? =(
The sweaty indian girls are the beautiful. OHHH YES.
ReplyDeleteNataraj this is the kind of things that make us love you.
ReplyDeleteDown here it was freezing today. I hate it, it was too humid before, but I'd rather be warm.