Do you ever sit by trashy people and feel like you are from the trailer park too? Feel like you have sat by the campfire and crushed beer cans on your head?

For instance, yesterday I took the train to another special part of town which is know for its shiny mullets and meth labs and I had the pleasure of sitting beside a couple which I feel I need to physically describe.

The man-Short Cotton Ginny sweater-cut off at the sleeves and a bit of beer gut showing and he had a smoke hanging out of his mouth while we were waiting on the tracks which was continually burning but never burnt out. I am pretty sure there was more than tobacco in it. Sources tell me that weed smells like skunk? Interesting.

His lovely female companion had shit brown hair, a black t-shirt that had a faded impression left of those ever so popular t-shirts "I'm with stupid." I must give a shout out to her nasty tobacco stained fingers which must have taken years to tarnish...How did I notice her fingers? Well she continually flipped her male companion the bird when he would even open his mouth. I must say though somewhere out there, there is a man named "Jerry." Who according to this delicate lady is a "SON OF A BITCH AND I HOPE HE DIES. KARMAS A BITCH JERRY, KARMAS A BITCH."

Halfway through the trip, after locating the passenger assistance alarm and carefully reading the fine print of how to escape, I decided to put my earphones in as the entertainment was coming to a lull. Perhaps their cigarette had put them to sleep...I hear that can happen.

Anyway, all of a sudden an argument errupts. "GIVE ME THAT YOU SON OF A BITCH." (prompt removal of one earphone so I don't look like I am listening) What on earth could be of earth shattering urgency and fowl mouthed language...THEIR FLASK.

Ohhhhh, of course that makes sense. So what seems like the next logical option to get this woman to calm down?...To me,I would think giving her a swig of your booze would shut her up. NOPE. Captain mullet himself decided that he didn't want to share soooo badly that he would get off the train at the next stop....without her.

For about 3 of the 7 minutes that were left on our train ride, I listened to her call her gentleman friend every name in the book so I did what any good samaritan would do...offer her my flask.

Smooches,

Nanners