Thursday, November 29, 2007

Dear NYC,

This morning, while making my daily jaunt across the threshold from eager to jaded, I mistakenly used my debit card to gain access through the subway turnstile. After my body slammed into the crossbar, which subsequently caused a five-commuter pile up behind me-I furrowed my brow, took a step back and swiped it again. My debit card. And again, slammed my body into the crossbar- this time in defiance of the reality of the situation. You see, NYC, I filled my MetroCard yesterday so I knew it wasn't my fault. I looked to the little "turnstile-swipe window thing" for some kind of clue as to what was going on. You know the one that tells you: 'insufficient fare' or 'please swipe at this turnstile again' or 'yo mamma's so fat..' The window was blank-no words of wisdom to guide me through the situation.
Long story short, by the time I figured out that I'm an idiot-all the commuters at the turnstile had vacated but one. I looked at the lady behind me, and because she was older and drew her own eyebrows on her head, I figured she would be kind enough to pardon me for my mistake. In other words, I walked blindly into a commuter trap. I lifted my debit card in the air, gave a chuckle and said "whoops". You know what she did, NYC? She did nothing-just looked at me with stale eyes and coffee lips, void of emotion. I quickly stepped out of her way and fished in my bag for the correct form of entry. To prove that I was no subway beginner, I caught up to eyebrow lady on the platform and made sure she saw as I stepped to the platform's edge, craned myself sideways, and peered down the tunnell to see if the train was coming. Then I turned to her gave her a right good stink eye.

The end.

The Woobs

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