An Open Letter to this guy on the Red Line:
I know, I get it, you're an asshole. You felt the need to sit next to me, to lean into me, to turn and repeatedly shove your backpack into my face. But thank you, because otherwise I would not have seen (and snapped a quick pic of) your *really* stupid Scarface-inspired jacket. Let's just say that just because you may like to watch MTV Cribs or find some sort of parallel between your life and that of Tony Montana does not give you the fashion license to "represent" the gang life with a painfully horrible embroidered jacket with Al Pacino's face staring me down as you talk to your baby mama about "all those young girls in class you think they all that," among other fabulous topics. And yes, when I knee your backpack and you turn and look at me, and I look you down, too, that means get straightened up.