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Because Staring Helps.

October 11, 2013

I’m in New York. I share my morning with millions of assholes on a commute to work. I also share it with a handful of preciously plucked whackos who steal your attention with a rape on all five senses on any given day.

So what about a crying baby has you suddenly staring down the heathen woman who gave birth to such a demonic distraction?

Seriously, you people are jerks.

This is not a revelation that came with growing my own possible demon- i’ve always been cautious of shooting a stare towards the sudden sad outburst of a baby. It’s fucking rude. We can ignore someone yelling for help on train tracks but for some reason we must look at a crying baby. And i’m not fooled, you aren’t looking to make sure the baby isn’t caught under stroller wheels: You’re staring because the noise just cut off your favorite part of a Miley Cyrus song or had you miss a triple point row of Candy Crush. Losers.

A mariachi band makes its way down the train car, narrowly missing your feet while his accordion goes to and fro, and you’ve got the headspace to pretend your N train didn’t just make a left turn into Mexico. How is that not applied to someone else’s child being whiny for a second?

I watched this morning as a girl (among others) openly gawked at a whiny 1 year old who cried for maybe 25 seconds. She had this look on her face that seemed to ask, “1 year old, what could you possibly be crying about? And why won’t your mom shake you into submission? Don’t you have the wherewithal to see I’m reading?”

I wanted to slap the girl with my baby bump. Cast your eyes back down to your book, silly girl, and put to use the methods you developed for the hobos, hip hop dancers, group of happy black men singing and annoying chatty Kathy’s.

You don’t have the power to mute a crying baby but you do have the power to mind your own and remember one day you’ll be the mom holding a blood curdling scream in a flesh suit.

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