Excercises in Style: The 6 Station

I was still drunk from the night before, and feeling dizzy. The burrito I had just eaten from Chipotle felt like it had stopped descending once it got to my chest. I was waiting in the stuffy 6 train station for my ride home, my back right at the lip of the platform so I could get onto the train as soon as it pulled up. A few minutes into my wait, I was surprised to see a stunning brunette strolling into the station, with the gait of a model, wearing a cocktail dress despite the 40 degree weather. Butterflies began to rise in my stomach and swirl around the burrito, as she walked through the turnstile. I could hear the shrieking of the arriving train as she walked straight towards me. The florescent overhead lights of the station reflected off of her big bug-eye sunglasses. The line of the bottom of her dress seemed to move in a wave as each sway of her hips brought her closer to me. I backpedaled, partly because of her intimidating beauty and partly in reaction to the sound of the train door opening behind me. My heart and thoughts raced. I knew I had to talk to her; I knew I couldn't let the moment pass. I was sure that she was looking straight at me, and only me, through her shades. I built up the courage, with the help of last night's Guinesses and manhattans. Her hips began to sway faster, as she picked up the pace. I braced myself. This was going to be the beginning of something beautiful, and I couldn't screw it up. Suddenly I heard an echoing voice, from the ceiling of the train, "Stand clear of the closing doors please." My eyes widened in a panic, as her model's gate progressed into a jog in an attempt to make it through the door and into my arms. The clicking of her stilettos was getting faster and faster, and she went into a full out sprint. As the door began to close, the frantic clicking came to an abrupt stop. The heel snapped off the bottom of her right shoe in her desperate effort to come to me, and her body tumbled to the grimy platform. The train took off, leaving her on the platform, with a broken spirit and a broken shoe. I sat down sad and disappointed, yet somehow, relieved.

Surprises

How inebriated I had gotten the night before! So inebriated that I was still drunk 12 hours later! I was waiting for the 6 in the cold; little did I know I would see one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen! Ever! She looked absolutely stunning in her cocktail dress and heels! She wore a cocktail dress! In the winter! 40 degree weather! You believe that? You wouldn’t believe how she made me feel! I mean, I was nervous, almost frightened! She was that beautiful! Then the train gets there! Right as she walks in, the train pulls up! I get in and wait, but man was I nervous! Almost sweating! And then the craziest thing happened! The door started closing and she started to run towards me! I mean a full out sprint! I had never seen such a thing! Sprinting in stilettos!!! And then, oh man, what happens then? She falls! Right on her ass! Poor thing! I just sat down, sad and disappointed. But, surprisingly, I was relieved!

The Rainbow

Last night I got so drunk, my face was almost violet. The floor on the 6 train platform was dirty and grimy, a dull indigo color, dotted with old trampled gum and puddles of an unknown fluid. My hangover plus a massive Chipotle burrito had me feeling dizzy and nauseous, so much so that I began to feel blue. That all changed when I saw a stunning girl stroll into the station like a model. She was so beautiful she had every other woman in the station absolutely green with envy. The train’s yellow headlights got closer and closer and I heard screeching as the 6 come to a stop behind me. I stepped back into the train, plotting how I would make her mine. The clock was ticking and her orange stilettos started picking up their pace, rushing towards me. Then the doors closed, right as she fell onto the floor. She sat there, red-faced, as the train pulled away.

The Subjective Side

What a horrid day! I was in a hurry to make it to Grand Central where I had a meeting with an agent that was going to give me my big modeling break. I dressed the part, but regretted it as soon as I left my house. It was freezing. If you think that’s bad, you wouldn’t believe the next series of events. I get down into the station and I can hear the faint sound of a train in the distance. I think I have enough time, so I go in slowly, practicing my walk so I can make a good first impression on the agent. I see some fat idiot by the edge of the platform, so I focus on him, making believe he’s the agent, approaching him as if I’m on the catwalk in Milan. I make it gracefully through the turnstile. All of a sudden, the train pulls up. I was so caught up in the damn walk, I didn’t even see it get there. “Mr. Agent” steps back into the train. At this point, I realize I’m running out of time, so I start to run as fast as I can. Of course the door closes and I miss the damn train. As if that’s not enough, in my haste, the heel to one of my $700 Balenciagas snaps! I sprained my ankle and bruised my ass. I was so angry, and embarrassed. It really doesn’t get much worse than that. All I could do was watch as my make believe agent drifted away in the train, along with my hopes of making it to the meeting, and making it as a model.