Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Adventures on El Tren

Yesterday was the first day I might have possibly bought into the whole superstition deal that bad things come in threes.

It was Monday and I had just finished my only class for the day. It's some geometry crap that relies heavily on proofs, but anyway it was boring as usual. The first bad thing was the weather. Yes, it was hot because it's summer, but then all of a sudden, while I was trying to sleep in class, the thunder roll and the lightning strike. It started raining. It was pouring heavily and it was getting a little chilly. So when class ended I had to walk in the rain without an umbrella (ella eh eh).

Then, when I get to the subway station mildly soaking wet, I was thinking that at least I'm underground now. Well I waited for fifteen minutes and then I heard an announcement that the D train was going really slow and was at 59th street. It wasn't too bad, I was at 145th street maybe it'll get to me on time. Well after another fifteen minutes, there was another announcement that the train was still going slow and was still at 59th street.

I wonder what their definition of "going slow" is?

So I decided to suck it up and go back above ground and take the more expensive route using the metro-north railroad. I'm really cheap only because I have no job right now and as a student, I'd rather save my money for more fun endeavors like beer or movies or video games, not a train train ride.

As I get to the metro-north train station, I see that I have one minute to get on to the train that I needed. I thought to myself, wow, things are looking up, usually I have to wait a while, but at least if I run fast enough I can get on my train. So I jet across the steps probably scaring the old guy walking leisurely on the steps and as I open the door the train that I need is just about ready to close its doors. Wait! I don't even need to yell because I zoom past everyone and jump in the closest car.

Yes, I made it into my train. Bad things don't really come in threes. Except that wasn't my train. It was an express train going all the way to Connecticut passing by my dear old city just north of NYC. Sonofabitch! I had wished I would have missed the train like all those other times, but instead I make it in time for the wrong train, you ass. Anyway, I take the 40 minute ride to Stanford, and then wait another hour at the train station, all the while I am hungry because I missed dinner seeing as how my commute would now take me three hours.

I eventually take the local train back home from Standford. The thing that kept me going and focused through the hunger and waiting was I could not wait to get home at eat some lumpia. I resisted myself from buying any food at the train station. Plus, the food was just donuts because it was late at night and everyone eats donuts at night.

Finally, when I get home at 11 pm, I collapse mentally because the lumpia was not cooked and my motivation to survive the day was all for not.

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