Quote of the Day
OK, so technically, this was on an old episode of Degrassi Next Generation that I happened to watch today. (I had to watch a bunch of episodes for work.) But still, it's fabulous, and I intend to live by it.
"Just don't settle, alright, for somebody else's idea of what the real world is. You're just far too cool a chick for that. Make your own real world. You deserve that much." --Kevin Smith (yes, that Kevin Smith)
My commute sucked more than your commute yesterday, and I'm willing to bet money on that.
So my evening commute is usually pretty intimidating to begin with. Leave the office at 6 pm in vain hope that the bus might be on time. Wait approximately 20 to 25 minutes for the 6:13 bus to arrive. Ride bus about 10 or 15 minutes to George Washington Bridge and across, can be longer depending on traffic. Transfer to subway and get on the A express train at 175th St. Transfer at 125th Street to the C local train. Transfer to 86th St. Crosstown bus. Get off the bus at Lexington Avenue. Walk 15 minutes to apartment. Arrive home about 7:30---on a good day.
Yesterday wasn't a good day. The first few steps go smoothly with the bus the usual amount of late thanks to the laziest bus driver on the planet. But then by the bridge we hit traffic. Really nasty traffic. The bus sits and sits and sits while trying to go around the block to get to the on ramp to the bridge. It seriously takes 15 minutes to go half a block. It's going up to 7, and I am still in New Jersey. Not good. Finally, a girl gets fed up and gets off the bus. Then everyone from my company stands up and gets off the bus en mass. There's about 20 of us, and we've decided to just walk across the freaking bridge because it has to be faster.
So we troop off hoping to find the way to get on to the walkway across the bridge. We run into some cops who are all over trying to direct the traffic jam that is Fort Lee. One snaps at us and tells us that there's a car on fire on the bridge so the whole thing is shut down and there's no way we can get across. Crap. I'm stuck in Jersey. I picture myself having to walk back to the office and sleep in my cube or, worse, having to rent a room in one of the severely sketchy hotels next to the bridge. Neither is pretty. Then I feel like a bitch because someone probably died in that fire, and I'm annoyed that it's inconvenient for me. I guess that's the New Yorker in me.
Luckily, that cop's partner is much nicer and tells us that, yes, of course we can still walk across the bridge is we want to and proceeds to tell us how to get to the walkway. So I hike up a bunch of stairs and across the bridge. Have a mentioned that I'm wearing wedge sandals with two-inch heels? Good thing they're from Naturalizer or that might have slowed me down. So the walk across the bridge takes about 20 or 25 minutes. The view of Manhattan is pretty. The view of the burnt up car is not. The finishes setting as I walk across the bridge, so I walk the last half in the dark. Luckily I made it to the other side without getting hit by any of the cars that were blinding with their headlights. I did get cat called by a passing truck driver, though. "Hey, baby, want a ride to New Jersey?" I wanted to yell, "Fuck no, I'm not going back there!" But he was slowing down, and I decided it might be best to just ignore the crazies while I was walking alone in the dark on a major highway.
So I make it to the bus terminal/subway station at about 7:30. And just to add a little insult to the injury, a creepy old Asian man mistakes me for a prostitute as I'm walking down the subway platform. "You worka tonight?" (It was the way he said it, OK?) I'm not quite sure what it was about my T-shirt, cardigan, jeans combo that made him think I had sex with people for money. But really, sir, if I did decide to take up the world's oldest profession, I don't think I'd be working the 175th Street subway platform. Can't imagine it would be very lucrative. People would probably try to pay me with Metrocards. And after all of this, I finally make it to Union Square at 8:10, just 40 minutes late for meeting up with Paul. Not too bad considering.
OK, so technically, this was on an old episode of Degrassi Next Generation that I happened to watch today. (I had to watch a bunch of episodes for work.) But still, it's fabulous, and I intend to live by it.
"Just don't settle, alright, for somebody else's idea of what the real world is. You're just far too cool a chick for that. Make your own real world. You deserve that much." --Kevin Smith (yes, that Kevin Smith)
My commute sucked more than your commute yesterday, and I'm willing to bet money on that.
So my evening commute is usually pretty intimidating to begin with. Leave the office at 6 pm in vain hope that the bus might be on time. Wait approximately 20 to 25 minutes for the 6:13 bus to arrive. Ride bus about 10 or 15 minutes to George Washington Bridge and across, can be longer depending on traffic. Transfer to subway and get on the A express train at 175th St. Transfer at 125th Street to the C local train. Transfer to 86th St. Crosstown bus. Get off the bus at Lexington Avenue. Walk 15 minutes to apartment. Arrive home about 7:30---on a good day.
Yesterday wasn't a good day. The first few steps go smoothly with the bus the usual amount of late thanks to the laziest bus driver on the planet. But then by the bridge we hit traffic. Really nasty traffic. The bus sits and sits and sits while trying to go around the block to get to the on ramp to the bridge. It seriously takes 15 minutes to go half a block. It's going up to 7, and I am still in New Jersey. Not good. Finally, a girl gets fed up and gets off the bus. Then everyone from my company stands up and gets off the bus en mass. There's about 20 of us, and we've decided to just walk across the freaking bridge because it has to be faster.
So we troop off hoping to find the way to get on to the walkway across the bridge. We run into some cops who are all over trying to direct the traffic jam that is Fort Lee. One snaps at us and tells us that there's a car on fire on the bridge so the whole thing is shut down and there's no way we can get across. Crap. I'm stuck in Jersey. I picture myself having to walk back to the office and sleep in my cube or, worse, having to rent a room in one of the severely sketchy hotels next to the bridge. Neither is pretty. Then I feel like a bitch because someone probably died in that fire, and I'm annoyed that it's inconvenient for me. I guess that's the New Yorker in me.
Luckily, that cop's partner is much nicer and tells us that, yes, of course we can still walk across the bridge is we want to and proceeds to tell us how to get to the walkway. So I hike up a bunch of stairs and across the bridge. Have a mentioned that I'm wearing wedge sandals with two-inch heels? Good thing they're from Naturalizer or that might have slowed me down. So the walk across the bridge takes about 20 or 25 minutes. The view of Manhattan is pretty. The view of the burnt up car is not. The finishes setting as I walk across the bridge, so I walk the last half in the dark. Luckily I made it to the other side without getting hit by any of the cars that were blinding with their headlights. I did get cat called by a passing truck driver, though. "Hey, baby, want a ride to New Jersey?" I wanted to yell, "Fuck no, I'm not going back there!" But he was slowing down, and I decided it might be best to just ignore the crazies while I was walking alone in the dark on a major highway.
So I make it to the bus terminal/subway station at about 7:30. And just to add a little insult to the injury, a creepy old Asian man mistakes me for a prostitute as I'm walking down the subway platform. "You worka tonight?" (It was the way he said it, OK?) I'm not quite sure what it was about my T-shirt, cardigan, jeans combo that made him think I had sex with people for money. But really, sir, if I did decide to take up the world's oldest profession, I don't think I'd be working the 175th Street subway platform. Can't imagine it would be very lucrative. People would probably try to pay me with Metrocards. And after all of this, I finally make it to Union Square at 8:10, just 40 minutes late for meeting up with Paul. Not too bad considering.
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