Just before I manhandled some poor old lady on the R train on Tuesday, I was relaxing with the first book of the Sookie Stackhouse series on my Kindle on my way home from work. Bill kept saying Sookie’s name, and I kept thinking about the way he draws it out all low and slow like some emo 15-year-old in “True Blood”, the TV adaptation of the books, and I was enjoying the thought.
There were exactly 4 people in my train car, because it was still before rush hour. I was sitting at the end of a three-seater, and there was a girl on the other end of it, one seat away from me. Two guys were sitting together farther down the car, and every single other seat was empty.
At City Hall, the doors opened, and in my peripheral vision, I saw what I can only describe as an ogre barreling onto the train. I didn’t look up, because I try not to stare at obviously-crazy people, but from over my Kindle, all I could see were these giant–I mean GIANT–feet leading the way. It wasn’t just that they were longer than I’ve ever seen; they were super-thick, too, as if he was wearing black platform moonboots. He took these enormously wide steps, too, like he had been straddling a horse for months and had lost the ability to unbend his knees.