I was coming home late one night not long ago, and, as is often the case, the Q train kept stopping on the Manhattan Bridge. I really hate when it does that. Betty Boop and A.Pants insist that the Q is the fastest train to take from Midtown to my apartment because it makes fewer stops along its route, but I remain firmly convinced that the 2 or 3 trains are faster, despite their making four or five more stops along the route before arriving at a station near my apartment.
The 2 and 3 don't keep stopping to let other trains cross in front of them on the track and are, I swear, faster.
Anywho, I was riding the Q train and the damn thing just stopped on the bridge, right before descending underground again on the Brooklyn side.
Much, I'm sure, to the chagrin of the drunk guy who'd stopped to pee off the edge of the bridge as we all got stuck and watched him doing his business. He turned around while zipping up his pants as scurried away as this little child who was sitting near me waved at him.
There's an object lesson here, kids. As much as you might think the world is engineered purely for your convenience, there's always someone watching you, and it's not always Big Brother. It might be Little Sister.
The 2 and 3 don't keep stopping to let other trains cross in front of them on the track and are, I swear, faster.
Anywho, I was riding the Q train and the damn thing just stopped on the bridge, right before descending underground again on the Brooklyn side.
Much, I'm sure, to the chagrin of the drunk guy who'd stopped to pee off the edge of the bridge as we all got stuck and watched him doing his business. He turned around while zipping up his pants as scurried away as this little child who was sitting near me waved at him.
There's an object lesson here, kids. As much as you might think the world is engineered purely for your convenience, there's always someone watching you, and it's not always Big Brother. It might be Little Sister.
No comments:
Post a Comment