A Bugger's Delight...

The two highly coveted "lean-against-the-doors" spots

I stood on the crowded PATH train headed for 34th St. and Work this morning-- blurry, trivial thoughts entering and leaving my mind like faceless rush hour commuters going through turnstiles at NY Penn station. I was trying hard to ignore the passenger to my right who, despite the fact that I had outmaneuvered him to get the last of two "lean-against-the-doors" comfy spots on the train, continued to try to squeeze himself behind me with half his body awkwardly leading the way. I couldn't stand how he kept rubbing himself all over my right side each time the train jerked, so I stuck my right elbow out stiffly, and began to read my Metro news paper (I wasn't giving up that hands-free spot-- I hate holding onto the gross subway poles!). That worked to calm my nerves, knowing the discomfort I was causing him. And he eventually backed off-- halfheartedly re-positioning his torso to disguise his failed attempt at usurping my comfy spot, for a casual re-adjustment of his stance.

On page 4 of my Metro, I read an article on Latina teens and suicide rates. Then I read a shorter piece on a "several hundred" person pillow fight that took place on Saturday in Union Square. Did you know that the Union Square Pillow Fight Saturday is part of an international event -- International Pillow Fight Day? Well, neither did I, but this past Saturday marked it's sixth anniversary. Cool beans. Next page.

I took a cursory glance at page 5 of my Metro, fully intending to move on to page 6 (because I could care less about "Eco-conscious kids' clothing", or whatever anyone has to say about it.), when something big, rectangular, red, and bordered in yellow caught my attention:

I quickly flipped my paper back around to page 4 again and looked, with a touch of manic amusement, at the pillow fight piece, my disbelief growing with every passing second I processed the information. Seriously?! Had everyone forgotten that NYC was Camelot for these indomitable, armor clad blood suckers a.k.a BED BUGS?! I guess they had, since even I, with my past experience with these creatures, had failed to notice how this pillow fight was a HORRIBLE, TERRIBLE idea (unless the goal was to help spread Bugger* love...) until this brilliantly placed ad. Good job Metro.

For the remaining two stops to my final destination, I felt my skin crawl and itch. I suffered in silence because I am morally against scratching in public... unless you're sure you're on a deserted street, and sure no one (a hot girl/guy?) will walk around the corner the exact moment you decide to scratch certain part (don't act like you don't get an inopportune itch every now and again!). I wondered how many of my fellow commuters had been given a good dusting of bed bug eggs this past Saturday. Was that annoying fellow rubbing himself all over me, a walking Bugger hive? Ugh!

"G'morning pretty! Here's a love bite for ya!"

The train arrived at 34th St., and I spilled out. I walked briskly to work, into the restroom and washed my hands. Absurd, since washing my hands has no effect on buggers, I know. But seeing as how I couldn't fumigate myself (because I don't have easy access to Bugger fumigants, and because I'd probably die in the fumigation process), I figured I'd do the next best thing and cleanse myself of NYC/NJ subway grime.

Happy Monday....

*Since our experience with them, my ex-roommates and I have called these delightful little darlings, Buggers.

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