Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Every Day I Fall in Love- In Praise of NYC Subway Girls

Brooklyn is the place I call home for now but, like so many of my neighbors, I wasn't born here.

The attractions of this particular borough-and all the others including the "City" across our Bridge- are evident. It's a constant blast of frenetic energy that sucks me in, swirls me around then usually spits me out even as it nonchalantly sustains me. Usually I'm purged from the controlled chaos just as I'm somewhere near ready to drop my dusty needle on a groove that's been worn to a sinuous rail with the shiny seduction of light blazing at the end of all its sticky darkness.

Been that way for years now and I don't get tired of it.
Ever.

Now there's plenty of reasons I don't mind the pace or the purge but the first time I bailed into the tunnel to grab the train, the righteous evidence was kaliediscoping all around me no matter which direction I turned and absolutely everywhere I looked. All while I did my level best not to gawk like some seedy perv let loose from his hothouse pen. Yes, inside that stale, choked-out air and those dank, grubby tunnels sweat-sealed by a non-stop, turnstiled jailbreak rush to our ratholes, there bloomed a fresh, fertile bounty of beauty more than fit for man or beast.

As a new recruit I had hungry eyes grateful for the revolving display of shameless poise and regardless invitation. I still do.

Because to take any train at anytime in this most American of all cities is to purchase a two-and-one-half dollar ticket to a glorious Gotham brimming to overload with a saucy, sultry, stylish, sophisticated and always, always juicy brand of the form feminine that is at once striking in its singularity as it is impossible to ignore in its distinctive urbanity.

For the unfortunate uninitiated, suffice to say- NYC Girls maintain a unique sensual snap that straightens you up like a drill sergeant's command even as they gracefully mingle it all with a flavor that's absolutely been brewed to savor.

Now what's your particular tasty taste?

Just take any subway line to anywhere and I will guarantee that you'll be blessed with a vision from those very particular dreams, no matter what your particular appetite happens to be at any real moment in your desperately daily life.
But while she may match some salacious fantasy from your most sophisticated daydream, nightdream or wetdream, that vision of a feminine force will strut straight into your sight with a raw confidence that's been so polished to perfection it will undoubtedly rock you back on your heels as you catch your breath and struggle for cool. Maybe for minute or more. Maybe forever.
She's real, she's right there and all bets are On.

And she's so beautiful it's hurts more than a little but never ever too much and I mean you feel it in your chest like some some goofy Greek God of fleshy cornucopia just crept up behind you and bear-hugged you for a sec- just for a gag, just for a giggle- whispering in your ear and daring you to take a step in the exact direction you've really been waiting to travel as all the grimy grind goes on around you with your life's clock ticking away. Yet she's no joke as this Gotham Goddess sways or swaggers or maybe saunters or slinks, gliding her effortless way to the genesis of all that you were meant to become as a man.
If you've got the moxie. If you got Game.

Why the Subway maybe you ain't asking?

Call it a collection, a compression, a curation, a prole distillation of all the wild, wicked, free-ranging sexy that's buzzing through this endlessly connected NYC beehive network of crackling short-circuits, miserable misfires and volcanic feedback that's ever ready to blow yet forever shot through with these gorgeous flashes, these sensual splashes of a purity that's always bubbling just above the funked-up fray- These MTA dynamo divas so seriously styled for their mystery missions and absolutely primed to launch.
Yet we, the dull denizens lit up by their generous glow, are the ones who get to achieve lift off.
We are the lucky ones.

In shorter- Beautiful women are freely roaming this 24/7 underground landscape, everywhere and always here and it couldn't be more real if it smacked me in the face. Hallelujah and I'm welcome.
I'm alive and the invigorating taste of sweetest life itself is bursting out from every subterranean crack, corner, nook and cranny. This is a gift and it is so much better than good.
These words of humble gratitude are my sincere celebration of them all,

$2.50?
Deal.


Next up- This Week's Subway Girl


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