Tag: michael martin

FriDATE: I’ve Done That

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

photos by ryosuke kumakura

Him:  Nice coat.

Me:  Thanks.  It’s my heavy winter coat.

Him:  Is it warm?

Me:  Yeah, it’s my heaviest one.

Him:  Looks like it would be warm.

Me:  It is.  It’s a warm coat.

Him:  Looks like it.

Me:  Yeah.  It’s warm. (pause) How long have you been here?  Long time?

Him:  Nope, only a little bit.  Five minutes.

Me:  That’s not too long.

Him:  Not at all.  So…

drawings by naruki kukita

Me:  So…

Him:  So tell me what you do.

Me:  Well you know about the website.

Him:  Obviously.  I used to have a website.  I used to run a very well attended blog.

Me:  Oh?

Him:  Yeah, I kept a sex blog when I was 15, and it became a bit of a thing.  

Me:  What?  I can imagine!

Him:  Especially because I was sleeping with older people, so it was illegal too.  I got a lot of heat for it.

Me:  I can imagine.  Wow.  That’s crazy.  What happened?

Him:  I took it down.

Me:  Why’s that?

Him:  I kind of outgrew it.

Me:  I can see that.

Him:  Plus, I was applying to schools and I Googled myself and my sex blog came up immediately.  I had like 5000 hits a day.

Me:  Wow.  Not too shabby for a 15 year old.  Good job.

Him:  So what else?  What do you do?

Me:  I teach.

Him:  Oh me too!  I used to teach literacy to remedial students.

Me:  Wow.  That’s noble.

Him:  It was a student job.  I outgrew it.

Me:  Oh, okay.  I teach improv to adults.

Him:  Do you do improv?

Me:  I do, yes.

Him:  I’ve done that.  I was in an improv class once.

Me:  Did you study here in the city?

Him:  No, there was a class offered at my university.

Me: Oh, okay, cool.  Did you like it?

Him:  Not really.  I thought it was dumb.  Sorry…

Me:  It’s not for everyone.

Him:  I was good at it.

Me:  I’m sure.  You seem like you would be.

Him:  What type of improv do you teach?

Me:  Musical improv.  How to improvise musicals.

Him:  Oh my God, I used to do musicals.

Me:  Surprise!

Him:  In college I did a slew of them.  Well, three. But then I outgrew musicals too, I guess. 

Me:  How so?

Him:  They started seeming frivolous or dumb, somehow.  Then I stopped doing them.  My teachers were super upset about it.

Me:  Think of the talent you denied the world!

Him:  By the way I like your shirt.  Where did you get it?

Me:  In Hamburg.  I went with my brother once.

Him:  Oh my God, I went to Hamburg with my cousin!

Me:  No kidding?

Him:  How long were you there? 

Me:  15 days.  I liked it a lot.

Him:  We stayed for three weeks.  It was pretty boring.

Me:  It’s not for everyone.

Him:  (burps)  Whoops!  Sorry.  I had bodega Chinese food before I came here.

Me:  Oh my God, I’ve done that!

Him:  What?  Burped on a first date?

Me:  No, eaten Chinese food.  It was a long time ago, when I was in the Peace Corps in Romania.

(long pause.  we lock eyes)

Me:  I’ve been to 33 states.

Him:  37.

Me:  I can do a cartwheel.

Him:  Handspring.

Me:  Double jointed.

Him:  Trained contortionist.

Me:  I have six fingers on my left hand.

Him:  I was born with a vestigial twin face growing from my abdomen.

(pause)

Him:  Do you want to go make out?

Me:  Obviously.  Let me get coat on.

Him:  That’s a very warm looking coat.

Me:  It’s very warm.

Him:  Looks like it.

Me:  It is.  It’s a warm coat.  It’s very warm.  My coat is warm.

Dear Michael –

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

photos by adam gardiner for the vice magazine salon party

Dear Michael,

I’m writing to invite you to a retreat I’m throwing at my house upstate.  I’ve done this before with various levels of success.  Basically I’m looking for a nice group of good looking men to join me for a fun weekend at my cabin in the Adirondacks.  I will provide all of the food, and liquor.  I also will provide the lodging, rent free.  I’m a great cook and I plan on making a feast every night.  Maybe you can even give me tips on my pies?

The only thing that I ask of my guests is that they spend a small amount of time each day kicking me in the nuts, or otherwise torturing my penis and testicles.  Ever since I was very young I’ve been extremely turned on by being kicked or hit in the nuts.  You can also feel free to step on my penis, or devise some other sort of way to humiliate or torture my junk.

A little about me:  I’m 6ft and weigh about 260lbs.  I’m a scruffy type, moderately hairy with a beard.  I guess I qualify as a ‘Bear’ type, you could say.  Bottom.  I have a leather sling installed in my cabin and a number of ‘toys’ to play with, including butt plugs, dildos, and hand cuffs.  You can feel free to use any of those toys on me, and I’m receptive to a variety of other types of sexual practices too. 

I’m not selfish!  I want to make sure you have a good time too. 

Guests are of course free to sleep with each other as well, provided they spend the requisite time each day kicking me in the nuts.  My cabin is central to lots of activities, including hiking and snow skiing.  So bring your skis if you’re a snow bunny!

Please let me know if you’re interested and/or available to attend.  Right now it’s looking like our next excursion is going to be the last weekend of January.  I know – cold!  But don’t worry, there’s a fireplace to keep us warm.

Happy Holidays!

R

Dear R,

Thanks for writing in, and your generous offer.  I’m unfortunately unavailable for this sort of retreat.  Kicking you in the nuts for an hour a day is simply not my thing.  While I think people getting kicked in the nuts is super funny, I’m not sure I could take it seriously sexually.  The last thing you want at this retreat is me making wise-cracks or outright laughing as people fulfill your sexual desires.

Come to think of it, kicks in the nuts are only funny once in a while.  Watching you get repeatedly assaulted in your junk might actually make me feel emotionally empathetic, or even squeamish.  In any case, I’m relatively confident that I’m unable to sexualize the experience.  Sorry!

Thanks for writing in, and happy holidays!

Jerk.

I Have Dreams

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

baking photos by kristen yoonsoo kim

Him:  Hey.  Nice to meet you.  I’m Y.

Me:  Nice to meet you too, Y, I’m Michael.

Him:  It’s so funny.  I was just thinking about you, the other day. 

Me:  Oh, is that so?  Why?

Him:  This is so weird.  I’ve just met you, but I feel a sort of connection between us.  Something cosmic, maybe.

Me:  Haha…  please sit down.  Take your coat off.  Would you like a drink?  I think I have some Xmas whiskey around here somewhere…

Him:  Of course.  I’ll have some whiskey.

Me:  What would you like me to mix it with?  I have ice, and ice.

Him:  What?

Me:  It’s a joke.  I don’t have any mixers.

Him:  Ice will be fine.

Me:  So, cosmic connection?

Him:  Well, you said hi to me on Grindr…

Me:  That’s true…

(sometimes i think cylons have invaded my grinder app)

Him:  Which led me to your blog, which I spent the last three days reading.

Me:  You what?

Him:  I read the whole thing.

Me:  Congrats, I haven’t even read the whole thing…

Him:  Is that so? 

Me:  No.  I’ve read it a few times…

(pause)

Me:  What??  I’m self absorbed!  Keep going…

Him:  Anyway I was at a soba restaurant the other day, and I kept hearing them call out a name to someone in the kitchen.  They kept yelling Kazu!

Me:  Aw.  My little brother, Kazu.   I love that kid.

Him:  Exactly.  He looked so familiar, and I thought the coincidence was too strong, and I had to try to meet you.

Me:  Well I hope you’re not too disappointed.

Him:  No, not at all.  When I hugged you hello, I noticed you have a nice smell.

Me:  I…  uh, what?  I mean, thank you.  Thank you.  That’s very sweet of you to say.  You’re a very cute boy yourself.

Him:  I’m 32.

Me:  I know, but you know what I mean.  Can I  sniff you?

Him:  Sniff?

Me:  You know, now that we’re keeping tabs.

Him:   Okay.

(pause – I smell him.)

Me:  You smell nice too.

Him:  Thank you.

Me:  Well I’m glad that’s out of the way.  So you were talking about connections?

Him:  Yeah.  I do this thing.  I have dreams sometimes.  Sometimes they come true.  Well, no, not exactly, but it’s something similar.  Do you have time?  Can I tell a story?

Me:  Sure.

Him:  A while back I had a dream.  I dreamed about my 4th grade teacher.  I hadn’t thought about him in a long time, but he was one of my better teachers and he was well liked by the class…   Anyway, that’s pretty weird to just dream about your old teacher like that. 

(grindr, that’s not what umbrellas are for…)

Anyway, in my dream he was dead.  Everyone was sad that he was dead. Lots of students had gathered to celebrate him and commemorate his death.  Well, I didn’t think much about the dream until a few months later when my grandfather in Tokyo had a stroke.  I was supposed to go back and see him, but I had this feeling that everything with my grandfather would be all right.  In any case,  I wound up taking a flight back to Tokyo.

Me:  Bye, bye – 1500 dollars.

Him:  Right?  And here’s the weird thing:  my grandfather wound up being fine.  BUT.  While we were visiting him in the hospital, I found, just by chance that my 4th grade teacher was there, dying of cancer.

Me:  Are you serious??

Him:  Yes.  I happened to walk by his room and notice his name on the door.

Me:  That’s amazing.

Him:  Yes, and I contacted a number of our classmates that I could find on Facebook, and we all went to visit him, and thank him for teaching us, and affecting our lives.  And then he died, shortly after.

Me:  Is that true?

Him:  Absolutely.

Me:  That’s a beautiful story.  Hey…

Him:  What?

Me:  Thank you for telling me that.  I’m glad you felt a connection with me.  I’m glad that you’re here.  And, know what?

Him:  What?

Me:  I think it was a very kind thing you did, organizing your classmates together to visit your teacher.  I think that’s impressive.

Him:  Oh…  I just wanted him to see how much further down the line he had affected the world.  I wanted him to know that he taught us well, and that we went out in the world and did well.  It was important to me.

Me:  Well thank you for telling me about that.  I think that’s inspiring, somehow.

Him:  Thank you.

(long pause)

Him:  Can I smell you again?

(long pause)

Me:  Yes, of course you can.

Advice

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

Hi Michael,

I’m from Sydney, Australia where we all walk on our hands and ride to work in kangaroo pouches. And have gay sex. Lots of gay sex.

I’ve never asked for advice before from a baker/actor/singer (you are a unique triple threat) but, you seem to go on plenty of dates, so here goes. I’m not very good at that moment when we’ve met once or twice and the other person is into meeting again but I’m not. I have this kind of people pleasing mentality where I don’t want to hurt the other person’s feelings by rejecting them. I seriously had a relationship for seven years with someone who I wasn’t totally into for this reason.

Basically these are good people, don’t get me wrong but there’s something about them that might be just slightly off. Like they turn up on a date with an umbrella with a handle shaped like a samurai sword and tell stories that are biographically inconsistent. Or you go to their place and they have industrial quantities of Jack Daniels and three years worth of unemptied ashtrays. Or maybe there’s just a bit of a creepy vibe for some reason you can’t put your finger on.

I get the sense that people get a bit damaged by life and I don’t want to contribute to that. But equally I don’t want to end up gay married to some person I’m not into just because I can’t say no to people.

Anyway, I’d be interested in your advice. How do you deal with this situation? Do you just tell it like it is and let the other person deal or do you have some strategy for softening the rejection?

Cheers,

Carl.

Carl,

Thanks for writing in.

It’s funny, I found your letter increasingly disturbing, the longer I mulled it over in my head.  At first it just seemed like, aw, this guy is too nice for his own good – maybe he needs me to tell him to man up and say ‘no’ more often.  But the more I thought about your problem, them more alarmed I got.

Carl, don’t you think it’s alarming, what you’ve said?  On the surface it might just seem like you’re a nice guy, staying with someone because you don’t want to hurt their feelings. But, what does it say about your own sense of self worth?  To me it says that you don’t value your own happiness enough to put your needs first.

Isn’t your  life important enough for you to insist on being with someone who fulfills you?

You have to get better at saying no.  You have to.  Statistically speaking most of the dates you go on will not lead to a relationship, so you have got to get more picky, my friend.  You don’t want to wind up the husband of someone who buys samurai sword umbrellas and doesn’t empty ash trays.

Listen, Carl.   You get one life.  One.  Live it for yourself.  Make yourself happy.  In order to do that, you have to learn how to say no when you’re not into someone.   Don’t settle for less than the life you deserve.  If the guy you’re on a date with doesn’t inspire you, or make you feel weak in the knees, or have an awesome comic book collection, then you have to kick him to the curb.  This can be done bluntly, or more gently, but you have to get the job done, kiddo.

You’re worth it.  You are.

Thanks for writing in.

Jerk.

My Korean Mother

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

photos by eryc perez de tagle

Hey Jerks.

Hope you’re having a good weekend.

Here’s some footage of Thin Skin Jonny performing at the Stripped Stories show in the New York Comedy Festival at UCB Theater.

Daniel sings a sweet funny song about how he loves his mother, even though she’s pretty intolerant of his sexuality.  I make wisecracks about AIDS.

Enjoy.

Would You Let Me Stay?

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

watercolors by lex millena

Him:  Sorry, I’m going to have to leave a few of my things…

Me:  That’s okay.  After 8 years, you can think of me as a sort of storage unit.

Him:  Believe me, I do.

Me:  Wow.  Thanks.

(pause)

Me:  Hey.

Him:  What?

Me:  Are we doing the right thing here?  Should we be turning our backs on 8 years of a relationship?  Shouldn’t we be fighting harder to preserve this?

Him:  Michael.  We’ve been fighting.  We fought.  And then we stopped fighting.  And we were still together.  And we were unhappy for a long time.

 

Me:  But – what about all those hugs?  There were lots of hugs.  And, now there won’t be any.  And I’ll be all alone here.

Him:  You’ll be fine.

Me:  I wont!  I’ll just be here.  Alone.  With your lazy ghost rattling around the place.  It was hard enough to get you to clean up before you were just a memory.

Him:  Stop it.  You’re making it harder.  We decided-

Me:  GOOD.  It should be hard.  It should be hard to walk away from someone who you made a life with – a LIFE.  That’s what we have here.  We have a life together, and you want to walk away from it.

Him:  This isn’t fair.  You’re the one who broke up with me…  I’m just doing what you asked me to do. 

Me:  But is this the best idea?

Him:  It’s the best idea.  Yes.  We reached a point where we weren’t good for each other.

Me: But I lied.

Him:  What?

Me:  I lied.  You asked me to tell you point blank, that I didn’t love you anymore, and I lied and said ‘I don’t love you anymore.’  I lied.  I do.  I don’t know how to stop.

Him:  What?  Why would you…?

Me:  I felt like I was drowning and I felt like that for a long, long time.  And I felt like the only way to throw myself a life preserver was to do this.

Him:  This is unfair – and I’m getting impatient.  Why should…  We’re doing what’s best for both of us, and you’re not making it easy.

Me:  It. Shouldn’t. Be. Easy.

(pause)

Me:  Will you listen to a song I wrote for you?

(long pause)

Him: (exasperated) Fine…

Him:  That’s really beautiful, but I don’t think it changes anything.

Me:  It’s okay.  I’m probably going to add a bridge in the middle about felching.

Him:  Why?

Me:  Make it funny…

Him:  Is everything a joke?

Me:  It is now.

(long pause)

 Me:  Jerk.

ThursDATE: Flashback – Last Christmas

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

photos by eryc perez de tagle 

Him: Michael, this Christmas has been perfect.  Just perfect.

Me:  Thanks Yoshi.  I had a good time too…  Drew and his boyfriend are super nice, aren’t they?

Him:  Yes, and I can’t believe we got to sing songs around a piano.  Perfect Christmas! 

Me:  Yeah.  It was idyllic, right?

Him:  I loved singing the Rocket Man, and how everyone jumped in to help.

Me:  Haha.   You gave it a hell of an effort.  You’re a Rocket Man, Yoshi!

Him:  Yes.  I’m tired of being Art Director.  Where can I apply to be karaoke superstar?

Me:  I’m not sure it works like that…  Unless you apply to be on American Idol.  I think you have to develop a following.

Him:  What about subway ride?  We almost got challenge for violent conflict.

Me:  What?  That guy?  He thought we were talking about him.  I diffused it.  Then he was fine.

Him:  We were talking about him.

Me:  I know.  It’s your fault.  Don’t ask me which subway rider deserves the Human Garbage Award for 2010, if you don’t want feedback.  I just happened to pick the drunkest, most obnoxious looking hipster in the train.  In any case, I charmed my way out of a fist fight with the guy.

Him:  I was surprised how quickly you made that lie up.  ‘We were talking about how much we liked your shirt.’ 

Me:  I did like his shirt.  Oh man!  I totally forgot to tell him that he won the Human Garbage Award!

Him:  Oh no!  You could have made his Christmas perfect, too…

Me:  I’m just a Grinch, that way.

Him:  What is Grinch?

Me:  Oh.  It’s a green man who ruins Christmas.

Him:  That’s not you.  You made Christmas perfect.  Delicious food and presents exchanged, and wine and singing around the piano.

Me:  Yeah.  Thanks.  I had a great time with you too, Yoshi.

Him:  I wanted to tell you something.

(pause)

Me:  Uh oh.  Don’t do it, Yoshi.

Him:  What?  You made a perfect day.  I just want to tell you something in my heart.

Me:  Please don’t do this.  I’m not ready for all this, Yoshi.

Him:  You always say you’re not ready.

Me:  I’m NOT.  You met me about 2 weeks after I ended a long relationship.  I told you it was best if we just hung out and had a good time.  I told you I wasn’t looking for my next boyfriend, and to please just think of me as a friend.

Him:  That’s what I did.

Me:  That’s NOT what you did.  You started side swiping me with surprise romantic dinner dates and theater tickets.  It was flattering and you’re a sweet man, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m all stirred up inside right now, and can’t really give my heart to anyone.

Him:  Why not?  Why can’t you just try to make a life with Yoshi?  What’s wrong with me, that I can only say that we’re friends, or if I push really hard you’ll agree that we’re ‘casually dating?’

Me:  Why do you have to push so hard??  Why don’t you have any respect for my feelings?  I keep asking you to keep it casual between us, but if I let you stay the night once a week, you want to do it twice the next week.  AND.  What’s with you sending me Craigslist ads for loft apartments??

Him:  I just want you to know what kind of life we could have togetether…

Me:  You do realize don’t you, that it comes off really bizarre?   We have a conversation on Monday about us taking our time and giving each other space, and then on Tuesday I get an email with photos of an apartment?  Especially when you annotate it with notes about how you’d decorate it.

Him:  Minimalist.  Sleek.  Luxurious.

Me:  You’re not taking my feelings seriously, Yoshi.

Him:  So much you could have, if you let me close to you.

(pause)

Me:  Thank you.  You’re very kind.  But I wish we could give each other space and let things happen naturally.  I feel like you’re on a timetable here, with a list of goals.

Him:  So.  Because it was so perfect…  tonight…  Christmas…  I wanted to say-

Me:  Yoshi.  Stop smiling.  I’m not laughing.  Look at me.  This is NOT the right time to do this.  I made a nice Christmas for us.  Don’t reward me by making me feel awkward, or guilty.  I don’t deserve that.

(long pause)

Him:  But I want to tell you…

Me:  Don’t.

Him:  I want to say it.   Just once.

Me:  I’m not going to be at ALL happy, if you say it.  I told you I only wanted a close friendship.  Why does everyone want just a little more than what’s on the menu?

(long pause)

Him:  I love you.

Me:  Goddamnit.

(long pause)

Me:  Okay.  We’re drunk.  Can we go to bed and talk about it tomorrow, sober?

Him:  Do you love me?

Me:  Yes.   But not the way that you mean it.  Not how you love me.  I’m sorry…

Him:  What do I have to do?

Me:  I don’t know.  I’m sorry.  Can we go to sleep, please?

(long pause)

Him:  Oh, no.  I ruined Christmas!

(I start crying.)

Me:  No you didn’t.  But just stop pressuring me for just a minute, okay?  Let’s just go to bed.

Him:  Can we have Creamy Times?

Me:  That’s the grossest euphamism I’ve ever heard.

Him:  You made it up.

Me:  Fair enough.

(long pause)

Me:  Yes, we can have Creamy Times…  But, tomorrow we have to have a long talk.

What Gay People Talk About

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

photos by eryc perez de tagle

Happy Sunday, Jerks!

Thin Skin Jonny had a show on Friday night at UCBeast.  We were lucky enough to perform with Momma Holler, Kevin Michael Murphy and Lauren Adams, Danger Pin and the hilarious Ben Lerman.

We’re going to be hosting a monthly showcase of comedy music at UCBeast, so keep your eyes peeled for that.

Here’s a clip of us doing Giulia Rozzi and Margot Leitman’s amazing storytelling show Stripped Stories.  We also did their Sirius Radio podcast!  You can download the episode for free here.  Warning – the song is slightly NSFW.

Thanks for watching, and Happy Sunday!

Jerks.

TuesDATE: Don’t Talk To Me

by piefolk, posted in Uncategorized

photos by roger wingfield

Him:  Hey.  Remember me?

Me:  Oh God.  No.  Don’t.

Him:  What?

Me:  I do remember you.  Excuse me…

Him:  What’s wrong?  Don’t you wanna talk to me?

Me:  I don’t want to go into it.  People are meeting me here soon and I just want to have a good time, and not have a scene or whatever.

Him:  What??!  I’m not going to cause a scene!!  What did I do??

Me:  Honestly?  You don’t remember?  Come on.  When was the last time you saw me?

Him:  Here?  Didn’t I meet you here one night?

Me:  You did, but that wasn’t the last time I saw you.

Him:  Oh my God!!  My mother was here that night. 

Me:  She was.  Yes she was.

Him:  Oh, me and my mom drink a lot when we get together.  It’s not pretty.

Me:  Right.  You guys were both very flirty with me.

Him:  I remember pouring on the charm, wait, my mother was flirting with you too??

Me:  She kept asking if she could ‘grab my basket,’ and reaching for my crotch.

Him:  Oh, no!  How embarrassing. 

Me:  That was fine.  I mean, it was odd, but I didn’t think too much of it, other than it was strange.

Him:  Well you can’t hold that against me.  It was my mother.  I didn’t do that.

Me:  I know.  But then I saw you after that…

Him:  When?

Me:  A few weeks after that.  On the train.  You don’t remember?

Him:  Refresh my memory.

Me:  Uh…  You and your friend were wasted…  It was around midnight or so, on the L from Manhattan to Brooklyn.

Him:  You’ll have to be more specific.

Me:  Um, you were drunk and talking very loudly.  Then some guy indicated that maybe you should be a little quieter, and not bother everyone.  Does this ring a bell yet?

Him:  I mean, it’s getting clearer, but I have a tendency to have altercations on the train when I’m drinking.

Me:  Okay, so, rather than quiet down, you started talking all ghetto, saying how you were a black lady who grew up in the projects and that you’d been on welfare and subsidized housing programs your entire life and that you didn’t have to take that kind of abuse from some over privileged white hipster boy.

Him:  Oh I remember that night!  Everyone on the train was laughing at that. 

Me:  Well, at first…  For the first 30 seconds or so, the hipster kids were really into your little rant.  But then it went on and on, for like 8 minutes.  Your friend was egging you on at 3rd avenue, but by the time we got to Bedford, nobody was laughing anymore and your friend was begging you to be quiet.   But, uh…  you kept going.

Him:  I don’t remember that.  I only remember being very funny.  Everyone was laughing. 

Me:  At first there was this certain amount of laughter, but then you took it way too far, and started talking about watermelon and chitlins, and all sorts of offensive stuff…  I don’t want to go into what all you said, but there were a growing number of people of color on the train who looked like they wanted to strangle you.   And to be honest, so did I.

Him:  Oh my God.  I don’t have to listen to this.  I have every right to say what I want on the train…  Why don’t you try having a sense of humor, for once?

Me:  You know what bothered me the most?  After you’d successfully alienated everyone on the train?  After that, you made eye contact with me and pointed and said, ‘Oh!  I know you!  You’re the flirty guy from the bar!’  And let me tell you, I was never so glad for it to be my stop as I was right then.

Him:  Oh sorry, Mister High-and-Mighty – I didn’t realize I’m not allowed to talk to you in public.  I drink, okay?  I like to have fun, okay???  I have a sense of humor and I won’t be censored by some tight-ass that doesn’t know how to have a good time!!

Me:  Listen…  I won’t lecture you or even tell you that your little rant on the train was racist, uncomfortable, and possibly worst of all – unfunny.  But don’t talk to me.  If you’re going to make that kind of scene in public, and alienate everyone on the train, DON’T turn around and involve me in your little circus act.  I’m not interested.

Him:  Okay…  Fine…  I won’t talk to you in public.

Me:  No.  You’re not hearing me.  I think you’re an obnoxious, racist brat.  You get wasted and grand stand for attention, which makes people titter for a few seconds, but ultimately leaves them feeling alienated and uncomfortable.

Him:  I think that –

Me:  You’re boring.  I don’t care what you think, or what you have to say.

Him:  How old are you??

Me:  Here’s what’s going to happen, okay?  Don’t talk to me.  Don’t ever talk to me again.  Okay?  Go get drunk with your mother and compete for boys, or whatever you do.  But don’t talk to me.  I will punch you, if you talk to me again.  Got it?

(long pause.  he opens his mouth to say something.  another long pause.  he closes his mouth.  he turns.  he walks away.)