I should have known ahead of time that today would be trouble. It's a Friday, in the summer, with the Red Sox in town. In case I didn't, I found out when I got to the station. The line was four deep just to get through the friggin' turnstiles. Seriously? It's not that hard to swipe your card and move forward. Downstairs, people were lined up about seven deep to shove each other out of the way to get on the train.
Fortunately, a C Train pulled up and I managed to get pushed on by the guy behind me. Even better, the driver told us that there was another train right behind us. Nice! Hop off the C. It was a D right behind us, but that's close enough for me.
Amusing event of the night: Watching the 40+ guy in front of me hit on the cute 20-something next to me. Dude, I have to tell you, it was embarrassing for all of us.
Less amusing: The woman who felt it was important to have a conversation with her husband at a screaming level, even though he was standing right next to her. As she got off the train, somebody muttered, "Thank God." Oh, wait, that was me.
No comments:
Post a Comment