Man vs. LIRR

OLD COMMUTE (note: the below is a recap of a particularly terrible commute I had a few months ago which I jotted down and emailed to some people in an attempt to ease my pain through a cathartic retelling of the experience - it is a true story):

5:15 AM – Rise, shine, shower, shave. All is right with the world…..

5:55 AM – Proceed to driveway whereupon car is absent.

5:56 AM – Proceed to street where car is found with parking ticket appended to windshield wiper. (Backstory: parking your car on the street in the town of Sea Cliff is illegal between the hours of 3AM and 6AM. This is apparently due to the massive rush of invisible traffic that rifles through the town in the wee hours – thus necessitating the open arteries on tiny suburban roadways…either that or it’s a means of generating additional revenue for the town of Sea Cliff while assuring the population remains indigenous.)

6:18 AM – Train arrives 10 minutes late.

6:30 AM – train conductor announces there are “obviously problems with this train” (since we were stopped for 15 minutes and apparently the train had been pooping out the whole way in) and that the train will not go beyond the Jamaica station. Would have been nice of the conductor to let people know BEFORE they get on that the train is a piece of shit. Would have driven. Asshole.

7:30 AM – Arrive at Jamaica station where last-chopper-out-of-Saigon atmosphere ensues due to more-people-than-trains scenario. Three Heisman stiff-arms and one cross-check later, board massively overcrowded train to Brooklyn.

7:50 AM – Arrive at Brooklyn LIRR stop after standing amidst crammed people who smell of pulled pork and grape jelly. More crowded than usual since later arrival puts me in the “soft, gooey center” of the morning rush.

7:52 AM – Proceed with indignant urgency to Subway entrance. Entry to subway is thwarted by lack of funds on metrocard…realized after the turnstile clotheslines my lower extremities – thus putting prospect of future brothers and sisters for the Admiral into peril.

7:53 AM – Proceed to Metrocard vending machine line where future recipients of the gold medal in Metrocard Vending Machine Special Olympics showcase heavy doses of mental retardation in fumbling through touchscreen instructions. Tears begin to form.

8:05 AM – Wait for Q train on platform. Make self-proclamation about the shortness of life and other platitudes designed to dissuade repetition of said experience.

8:10 AM – board Manhattan-bound Q-train. iPod runs out of battery – thus tearing down primary layer of defense from commuting elements. Enjoy music of fellow passenger whose earphones pipe out Caribbean dance music at volumes loud enough to cause fish in the passing east river to vibrate out of the water and smack against the windows of the train.

8:25 AM – Arrive at office. Conduct online research of NYC-based housing solution.

8:27 AM – Issue down-payment on Tribeca loft .2 miles from office.

9:03 AM – Rob bank.

“The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.” – Hunter S. Thompson


5:15 AM – Rise, shine, shower, shave.

5:30 AM – walk 30 feet to desk. Begin work.

5:31 AM - Begin to cry at the thought of those who have to endure terrible commutes on the Long Island Railroad.

5:31:03 AM - Regain control and begin laughing at the thought of those poor bastards who have to endure terrible commutes on the Long Island Railroad. Ha ha ha ha hhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaa.

New live/work place:

Haven't robbed bank yet - but I'm working on it.


dee said…
I don't know why I'm just now reading this but it is hilarious! I haven't experienced one of these moments (yet), though I had plenty when I used to live in the 'burbs, post-college. This is my favorite: Three Heisman stiff-arms and one cross-check later...!!!

P.S. Happy to see that the Admiral's prospective siblings were not harmed.

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