I have to admit, I’m a pretty cynical person. Not cynical for a New Yorker, but still a New Yorker.
Mondays, I hold it together for you guys. I am forced to, by having committed to Project Optimism and having gotten positive feedback from you.
But Tuesday, it’s like I breathe a giant sigh of relief. Deep breath, exhale. Now I can tell you what I’m really thinking.
Yesterday, it took me over 4 hours to get home. If you live in the area, you probably heard that there was a train derailment in the tunnel under the East River (nobody was hurt).
I got to Penn Station and the gates were down. Closed. Never a good sign.
I took a walk up to Times Square and got a snack. Tried to wait it out. Checked twitter (ok, so twitter is good for some things).
I saw one tweet about crowds and “panic” at Penn Station. Images of WalMart shoppers being crushed on Black Friday raced through my head. Nope.
I took the 7 to Woodside Station in Queens. I reminded myself how lucky I was that I wasn’t on the derailed train, now stuck in the tunnel.
I got to Woodside and I just had to wait for the LIRR to start running again.
Side note: It was somewhere between Times Square and Woodside that I noticed that my purse was partially soaked through with water. No idea how.
I waited about an hour. Unfortunately, when they restarted service, they cancelled stops at Woodside. I got back on the 7, switched to the E, and rode that to Jamaica.
Chaos and police at Jamaica. I got on the first train going East. I ended up having to beg poor Tom, crutches and all, to hobble out to the car and pick me up in Hicksville.
Yesterday, I left work just after 6. I got home at about 10:30.
In times like these, I always remember my former tax professor, who told me that when he commuted from Long Island to the city, he had one day where he spent 6 hours on the train. He came home, told his family they were moving, quit his job, and and moved to Binghamton.
Well, I’m not that desperate yet, but still… there has to be a better way.