Today, on the platform at Baltimore’s Penn Station, while waiting for the MARC 513 train southbound to DC, I saw this woman.
She was sorta unattractive. And of course that was the first thing I noticed, because I have a penis, of course. I mean, she seemed as if she was a fine upstanding citizen. She could dress herself. Place her hair in a respectable manner, too. She wasn’t killing people, randomly of smell bad. I bet she bathed daily. The only serious issue I had with this woman was the fact that she was completely singing (outloud, too!) along to the Richard Marx song that was sadly being piped over the loudspeaker. Not only was she singing along, but she rocked her head forward and backward. She was almost mini-headbanging. All this, while actually seriouly singing along. And oh no, she was not making a mockery of Richard Marx’s deliberately obvious songs. This was one serious Richard Marx fan. She was actually enjoying the aural stimulation from the Duke of Marx as if his musical stimuli was like the second coming of Christ. I was on the verge of shoving my fingers down my throat and hurling vomit all over her nice new coat. So yes, the first thing I noticed was her lack of beauty. But I think it was all an instant pavlovian response to her song selection of the day. Or rather her willingness to sing along, outloud. She could have been a brazilian beauty queen and the vomit would have still flown across the platform. Mmmmm. Vomit. Richard Marx. Nothing better.
And those that hang on the tails of such hits as, “Hold on to the Night” and “Endless Summer Nights,” well you simply need a record collection makeover. We’re talking about the dude that sang back up for Lionel Richie. And for those that are unaware, Lionel is simply one step behind Barry Manilow. One step because he basically redeems himself on a daily basis by being a former member of the Commodores. Poor Lionel’s soul. Where o’ where did it go once you left the Commodores? Clearly not to Richard Marx.
Other than that mildly entertaining 10 second gaze and mild stare to the right while standing on the platform, it’s been a wonderful briskly monday morning in the city.
I [heart] you, Richard Marx singing girl!