Saturday, January 31, 2009

Who Cares if a River Runs Through It!!

You know, the subway can get real boring at 10:00pm on a Saturday night. I took Erika to the airport tonight so she could head back down to Peru. No, I didn't make her take the AirTrain, but only because her bag weighed twice my body weight. But I sure as hell took the AirTrain home and spent the 30 minute subway ride calculating the most efficient way for me to get back home. The most convenient option would be to take the train to my office and then take the bus to my doorstep. But that bus only runs every 30 minutes, so my timing would have to be perfect. Another option would be to take the train to Jackson Heights, transfer to the 7, and then transfer to the N/W to Astoria at Queens Plaza. Or take it to my office, walk five minutes, transfer to the 7 to the N/W to Astoria. All good options.

Watching my watch tick every minute, I calculated that I would actually arrive at my office at exactly the time the bus would arrive! It would be a close call, so I got off the train and sprinted to the exit only to see the bus a block past, son-of-a-bitch! Hell, I was five minutes away from the 7-train in the greasy chop-shop neighborhood that I work in, so I figured I'd just walk to the N/W instead of walking to the 7 - even though it's below freezing.

Then the night got interesting. Eyeballing my watch when I got five minutes from the N/W train, I calculated that the next bus would actually be arriving in 20 minutes. Doing math in my head, it would take me 5 + 5 + 10 minutes (assuming that the train would come exactly when I got there, which it never does) to get home on the train. Intriguingly though, the bus stop had a fire hydrant next to it that was leaking, causing a massive ice buildup, flooding the street corner, and causing even more ice to build up. It was quite gnarly, and I was in an artistic mood to sit and watch the ice buildup, hoping that some gypsy cabs would nail that puddle, spraying the sidewalk that had three inches of ice built-up from other gypsy cabs nailing the puddle. So I decided to sit and wait for the bus to take me home.

Being a good citizen and realizing that the world is running out of clean, drinkable water (fact!), I called in the leaking hydrant to 3-1-1, the second or third time I've called them. The last time I called them was in Manhattan when a god-damn car alarm kept going off outside my window in the middle of the night. Nobody ever showed up that time, not surprising. But I was bored and the call was free. So I sat, and waited in good confidence knowing that I would be entertained by huge splashes of water/ice and that the buses were running on time because it's late at night and no one takes the bus at this hour, so there's no delay.

Fact: Not enough people rent cars in ghetto Long Island City. I waited like 15 minutes before a car made the turn and nailed the puddle, sending a plume of water onto the icy sidewalk. It was magnificent, though belated. I saw my bus going the other way and knew that it would show up in about five minutes because it does a loop.

Fact: I was losing the feeling in my toes and I was thinking about taking the bus to the hospital to have my nose tested for frostbite because the bus was running five minutes late. I had techno pumping in my headphones and decided that I should do some sprints up and down 21st street. I would totally be that weirdo in LIC, especially with my brightly colored chuyo on my head.

Fact: The bus was STILL not there after doing a sprint up the street and back, though my toes were moderately warmer (which isn't saying much).

Fact: I waited FIFTY EFFIN MINUTES with no bus in site before I hailed a cab and threw six dollars down the drain. I hate the bus. Let it be known that I will no longer honor the buses with my presence from now on in order to protest the utter irresponsibility of the buses. Unless I walk out my apartment and see it coming. There is NO excuse for them being late tonight.

Fact: I am beginning to get feeling back in my toes now.

This incident really drove home the point that my "winter" (fall/spring) jacket is not substantial and I should use my gynormous tax return to purchase a discounted jacket (thanks, recession). But this begs the question - do I go with the long, wool, UES-style jacket, or do I keep it ghetto and real and go with the poofy North Face waterproof, down jacket that has kept Erika warm all winter? I'm likely going to go for the poofy jacket. They're on sale now at Dr. Jays, the ghetto's finest.

J. Riley, two weeks until my wedding and the disappointing gringo turnout means I don't have enough men coming to be groomsmen (thanks, recession). I guess I can rent some Peruvians!

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