Contestant #1 hails from the Blue Line this morning, Oak Park stop, 7:55am. Weighing in at really fucking fat, and sporting a pair of comically small round sunglasses that looked like a pince-nez on his fat head, though no Teddy Roosevelt was he. He was of non-disclosed Hispanic origin, but clearly American. In addition to his obesity, he was adorned in jean shorts (jorts, if you will), basketball shoes that were capable of supporting a level of athleticism he could never hope to even feign, a bad ass thin chinstrap beard, and lastly a blue tooth ear piece. Obviously he did not currently, and probably never will have, any business to conduct on the blue tooth device, but at least he has one. His travel companions were an equally obese woman who appeared to be his “home girl” and a shorter, yet far wider Latina sidekick. We’ll conservatively say she was “morbidly” obese. Annoying everyone on the train with their loud, frivolous banter was awful enough, but not nearly as awful as home girl insisting that she sit on the lap of our poor fat man’s Enrique Igelsias, despite it being clearly unnecessary, and even more obviously uncomfortable to both rotund parties involved. When pressed by their friend, the esteemed Ms. HamHock, as to why they were seated thus, our protagonist responded “We used tah do it all da time back in da day. Why not nowww?” The esse-speak was so forced as to be painful, almost Caucasian in its nerdiness. As for the tee shirt, it was large, gleaming white, and said:
“I Brought the Awesome to the Party [Giant Stewie Griffin Picture looking "hard"] What did You Bring?”
And boom goes the dynamite.
Contestant #2 hails from smoking cigarettes at the al fresco seating area of the Elephant and Castle on the corner of Adams and Clark, within the Club Quarters, at 4pm. This despite not patronizing Elephant & Castle in any way, whether food or beverage order, and in bold defiance of numerous posted “No Smoking” signs in all corners of said area. Weighing in at white trash malnourished, with a greasy center-part dirty blond long straight hair cut, because what the fuck are you lookin’ at, mutherfucker? In addition to his meth-cut physique it seems that jean shorts would carry this day, though black was the color of choice for #2. His look was rounded out with off-brand white tennis shoes of a size incongruent with the rest of his body, high black socks, and extensive facial pock-marking. His “Ol Lady” appeared to be stoned, though anyone’s guess as to her poison of choice. If pressed, I would speculate she was trying to climb out of a K-Hole with the aid of Ice (crank, meth, Kentucky Coffee). Her haircut was awful in 1983; virtually indefensible in 2013. Her acid washed jeans were not made for 92 degree, humid days, but wear them did she. #2 smoked his off-brand heater in brash indifference to the barely-lucid tirade his Ol Lady was on about “Then you tell me how the fuck we’re gettin’ on the mutherfuckin’ train then?” Through the smoke-rings and aggressive devil-may-care Camaro-lust attitude aimed directly into the pussy-music face of society at large, there was a black tee shirt which read:
“Born to Rock and Roll. Forced to Work”
And there you have it. The new Hispanic face of America’s future in all its glistening porkfat second-generation adoption of our abhorrent eating habits versus a bygone era of manual day laborer Teddy Nugent air guitar street speed addiction cigarette wrinkles. Who ya got?