It was a dark and pleasant night in the East Village. At around 3:00am I believe, two friends and I got on the train at 8th Street. There was a man relaxing in a turnstile, he stood there silently for a moment and then uttered, “chillin”. He walked across the platform towards us, spit onto the tracks and then said, “chillin”. He turned around to some dude and said, “chillin”. The train came, but before the train doors open he hopped on and then off of the runner below the doors, looked at our surprised faces and said, “chillin and illin!”. He sat down a few seats away from us and while we chatted, we’d hear the occasional, “chillin”. When some other passengers got up, he took the opportunity to sit next to us. My friends stop arrived and my friend wanted to make sure that I’d be ok the rest of the ride– so he chimed in with something along the lines of “don’t worry, she’ll be fine” to my friend. He actually rode all the way to Astoria next to me, and when he got off the train a few stops before mine, he banged on the window next to me, waved and said, “chillin”.
Not sure where the guy was going, or where he was coming from – but I do know that when he got there he’d definitely be chillin….and then probably crying himself to sleep….and then waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and screaming, “CHILLIN!!!!”.