Months & Years

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Yesterday I was sitting on the 2 train going into work when a voice called out “Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.” I looked up to see if it was the regular 2 train preacher but saw no one. “I haven’t had a day off in four years.” I spotted the speaker. He was just a guy, a big guy mind you, sitting down and shouting.

“Everyday I get up, go to work, come home, go to sleep and do it all over again. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.I haven’t had a day off in four years. I get it out now or I get it out at my probation office.” umm. did he just say probation, uh oh, this isn’t actually that funny anymore.

” I’m on probabtion for a crime I did not commit. “ oh okay, he’s just trapped in the justice system, poor guy.

“Three years of probation. I’ve lost three years of my life, but I’ve got lives. I’ve got lives.” oh, he’s a cat, just going through his nine…

“I haven’t had sex in 31 months.”

There was about half a second on the train where it got so quiet you could have heard a pin drop, until the guy across from me started laughing so hard I thought he might bust a rib. “Oh damn!” He added.

I was busy doing the math in my head, thirty one months, that’s two years and seven months. Wow. I don’t feel so bad about myself anymore. I wonder if he’s single.

We pull into a station, the orator rises, goes to the door and looks back at us and announces:

“I happen to be the government of the government of the United States.”

And then he was gone.

Curious to note he was counting his sex life in months and his probation life in years. Guess using months takes the sting out of the dry spell. If nothing else I feel better knowing that the government is not, in fact, full of mindless, faceless drones but just a guy on the subway, who really should call my therapist.

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