Another NYC Subway loon

Last night my coworker Catherine and I were having a discussion on the N Train. We got on at Lex and were getting off at the next stop. She was telling me about her her statistics class. We were standing in front of some guy sitting there chewing on something like a cow does cud.

"I'm so dead," she declared, "the professor is disorganized. He wastes his and our time everyday. We haven't had any of our labs. No one has a clue. I'm dead."

"Statistics?" I asked.

"YEAH!" she declared, "I'm so dead. The department writes the final!"

"Hmm," I started thoughtfully, "if a statistics teacher is that ineffective and SOMEONE ELSE writes the exam you ARE dead. You think Eddie Guerrero is dead? YOU'RE DEAD. You think King Tut is dead? YOU'RE DEAD!"

Catherine and I chuckled a little about this grim subject when the chewing guy stares me in the face and starts in, "You know why that wrestler is dead. He's an athlete. Heart failure? Steroids!" He was becoming heated. Catherine and I stared at this ranting man in disbelief. "Tut's not dead. The Egyptians believe they live on forever in their descendants. He's not dead."

I made the mistake to answer him, "Well, he's not breathing, now is he?"

"Just check the museum," the lunatic berated, "they have large displays."

"But he's not living, is he?" I insisted. Dead is dead. I'm sorry.

The maniac was really losing his cool. His face was turning beet red while he insisted that he was right, that King Tut the pharaoh of Egypt was still alive. But in the meantime the train pulled into the Queensborough Plaza and the doors opened. Ignoring this man and his rant, Catherine and I walked off the train.

"That guy was about to kill you, you know," Catherine told me.

Can you imagine a stupider way to check out than that?