by Renata da Fuoco

Created on: February 25, 2010

"Sprout Head Learns a Lesson"

5:30 pm. Flat smack in the middle of rush hour in NYC and I'm swimming in the underground tunnel system called the Subway. Having just made my weekly pilgrimage to Trader Joes which thankfully now exists in NY, I have my wine bags in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. I am also lugging along my big pink bag that I fit EVERYTHING into. I have a 45 minute trip consisting of three colors of subway trains although easy transfers. I board the 1 train and there is plenty of room today for some odd reason. The doors stay open and we all want to be on our way when suddenly a massive group of people rush the empty space on the train. It happens all of the time, no big deal, just squeeze in like cattle. It's the norm here, especially during rush hour.

But oh no, not this day. This days experiences brought with them a tall man with frizzy brown hair that seemed to sprout out like, well, sprouts. We'll call him Sprout Head. He pushed his way on the train and of course made his way in my direction. I say of course, because this is my type of luck. He bumps one of my trader Joes bags and then turns to me as though my bag was an extension of my hand which had just leaped out from my body and smacked him across the face. He says nothing while he is looking at me and I was happy about this. I was already hot, carrying bags and standing on a crowded train….nothing more need be added to my current level of stress. But, oh… I see Sprout Head's head…it’s shaking back and forth and he is mumbling something the other direction to people he doesn't even know, and don't really care what he has to say.


I had to notice it. I had to try and listen because something deep down told me he was complaining about me. Perhaps a narcissistic trait but either way. Just in front of him was another man carrying a backpack on his back, rather large, but still able to move around. Sprout Head continues to mumble and I was finally able to make out his words. He was outwardly complaining about people that get on the Subway in rush hour with bags.

That was it. Something snapped inside of me. An almost silent roar began building and bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I could feel it burning, the acid in my stomach rose like fire. This was like one of those moments when you have the FLU and you KNOW you are going to “blow” no matter what happens, it is just a matter of when. The beast unleashed itself with fury inside my mouth

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