Tuesday, October 2nd

Got to head into work on the "late" shift (be at work between 10-10:30am) because I get to head home on the "early" shift after tonight's 25th Next Wave Gala Kick-Off Reception.

Sky was bright, but mostly covered with thin clouds. Kind of humid. Work had the air conditioning on, but it was breezy and mostly pleasant outside.

65 degrees.

9:17am

N: As I was walking towards the station, an inbound train tooted it's horn. I knew it was going express, so I didn't rush. I did, however, wonder if I was catching the tail end of the messed up train schedule or just the beginning...

Another ten minutes rolled by as a W pulled into the station, sped up, tooted, and drove on through. By 9:34, a new N came into the station and I was sure it would stop for us. It had to: I would've thrown rocks at it and convinced the other commuters to create a human wall/barrier.

It stopped locally.

When I sat down in mostly abandoned front car, my feet slid on a slimey water-like substance. It smelled like vomit, so gave up my seat for a patch of clean air and stood in the front of the car. We pulled into QB Plaza and a crowd of people lined the platform. I fought my way off and silently wished them good luck on the UpChuck Express.

7: We waited another ten minutes for the 7. By this time it was 9:55am and had taken me almost 45 minutes to go 10 blocks. It is times like these that I get angry. 45 minutes to go 10 blocks? Where are we, LA on the 10 at rush hour? No. We're in Astoria, an hour after rush. That ride should take 15 minutes, tops.

Anyway, the 7 finally showed up (after I had to send a message to work, embarrassingly telling them I might be late...for the late shift! I hate that!) and was packed. I squished my way on amongst, suprisingly, a bunch of teenagers.

G: As I hustled down the stairs to the platform, I could see the last car of the G pulling out of the station. "Dammit!" I yelled to no one.

A train was in the station, but all the doors were closed. Within a few minutes, another G pulled into the station and before the people were getting off, commuters were making their way on. The conductor warned us, "Stand clear of the closing doors, please!" and closed all the doors accept the back one.

After another five minutes of waiting, someone announced that the train across the platform would be leaving the station first. Glad I had my iPod turned at just the volume where I can both hear the music and be aware of my surroundings. So, we all had to get up, file out of the one half-open door through the other train's one half-open door.

In a moment, all the train doors flew open, the announcer screamed something, the doors binged shut and we were off. At Greenpoint, I noticed this dude sitting kitty-corner from me and thought he looked really familiar. I swore he was my best friend's former step brother, Corey, who at one time lived in New York. I later got confirmation that Corey lives in Dallas, so I feel justified not talking to a stranger. Avoiding awkwardness just for the sole purpose of curiosity is a good thing, I think.

I got to work a little after 10:30am.