Crowded but not bad. I don't need music today. I don't get service between City Hall and 14th Street, anyway, so I would only get, what, one song? It's fine. Hmmm...this is moving pretty well for Fulton Street to City Hall. I might get to Grand Central early. I guess I can go to the bathroom and get some hand sanitizer, maybe I'll...
This is: Brooklyn Bridge/City Hall. Ladies and gentlemen, please be careful of the gap between the platform and the train.
Hmmm...doesn't look like too many people are waiting. Slowing... stopping... Oh...hmmm...a lot of people are are waiting to get on my car. Eh, no problem. Train is moving. So it's a little crowded.
The next stop is 14th Street/Union Square. Please stand clear of the closing doors. BING BOONG!
BOOM! What the fuck, bitch? I know it's crowded, but common courtesy, please! Look at you with your thick-rimmed glasses, flannel-ish shirt, stylish skirt, and ankle boots. Dressed up, self-impressed hipster. Eye roll. Anyway. I hope the train still rolls.
Canal Street.
Spring Street.
Stop.
No problem. I can go to the bathroom on the train they have hand sanitizer.
"Eguirhfhfgjhgpfdfghghfgjf...SOIGOTTHECHARGEDISMISSED!..djfcksahdjfhsafhskljdfhskldfhs."
God, motor mouth, shut the fuck up. Oh, it's that hipster bitch. Go figure, she's a lawyer.
"Ehfdfgklhkldkfjsklfdjsjfs...ICAN'TCUZIHAVEANAFFIDAVITTHATDAY!..sdfkhcniwehiujrncsl."
We get it. You're busy. You're a lawyer. You have a boyfriend who is much more attractive than you. Now, please, shut the fuck up. Oh good, we're moving.
Bleeker Street.
Astor Place.
Crawl.
This is: 14th Street/Union Square. Ladies and gentlemen, please be careful of the gap between the platform and the train.
They're probably getting off. She seems like the kind of person who lives around Union Square. God, there are a lot of people waiting to get on this train. I hope a lot of people get off.
The next stop is 42nd Street/Grand Central. Please stand clear of the closing doors. BING BOONG!
Shit, net zero. SHIT! Motor mouth and her boyfriend are still here. SHIT! I just got pushed right next to them. God, how does this guy tolerate such a wound-up, type-A bitch? He probably keeps on kissing on her to shut her the fuck up.
"Ghuefhrklifdskhdeiurnd...YOUWANNAJUSTSWITCHTOTHE6ATGRANDCENTRAL!..siddjkhfvoe."
FUCK. They're getting off with me. She's the type of person who will just ram through me again to get off, despite the fact I'm getting off. Well, no way. I will win. I will get off first.
Ahh, we're moving. Brace yourself, boy. It's almost go-time. It's like "Saving Private Ryan" and you're cruising to the beach somewhere between 23rd and 28th Streets.
28th Street.
33rd Street.
Crawl.
Stop.
Crawl.
This is: 42nd Street/Grand Central. Ladies and gentlemen, please be careful of the gap between the platform and the train.
"Pardon! PARDON! Excuse me!" I plead, as the bullets rain down on me. The voice, that grating, galloping voice, fades out. I let out a heavy, exulted exhale and climbed the stairs. Move. MOVE! Jesus, tourons.
"You look familiar."
"Yes, Matt LePage and you're but not anymore."
"Yes! Wow. Yeah, I'm getting married in June. How are you?"
"Good, you?"
"I'm well. Where are you commuting from?"
"Wilton."
"Oh, great! My brother lives in Weston, so I'm familiar."
"Yeah, Weston's a great town. OK, so, I have a train to catch."
"Yes, please catch your train."
"OK, bye."
Ugh, not even a "Good seeing you" or "I'm sorry, but I have to run" or "Let's grab a coffee and catch up"? What the hell is wrong with me? What the hell does she think is wrong with me? I have 15 minutes. I have plenty of time. I could crawl, still make the train, and have a seat, to boot. Did this wretchedly self-absorbed conversation have such an effect on me that I am still carrying it and just can't tolerate people in general for a certain grace period? Ugh, I'm gonna message her on Facebook.
Moral of the story: keep going to psychotherapy and ALWAYS listen to music on the subway.
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