I feel like I've been in transport for a good portion of the work week.
On Wednesday morning it took 30 minutes for the train to make it out of Brooklyn.
It usually takes ten.
It's disorienting. You're reading your book and listening to your tunes when all of a sudden you realize... Did I... Did I really just spend an hour of my life underground? Going absolutely nowhere?
Yes I did as a matter of fact, while sitting next to the girl who dramatically rolls her eyes to the back of her head and smacks her lips in order to make her annoyance universally known. With the husky fellow towering over me, leaning on the hand rail and perpetually checking his watch to emphasize the utter waste of his very valuable time. A few feet away from the couple leaning against the double doors talking about their summer share so loudly as if to personally invite all patrons to eavesdrop on their private conversation. Across from the teenage boy who insists on playing his camera/mp3 phone as a boombox, Headphones? Mere accessories and completely unnecessary.
And there we all wait. Perhaps two, maybe three blocks from our destination.
Interpol - 2036-02-10
No MTA, thank you. I'll see you tomorrow morning.