My editor spoke to me about my tardiness yesterday. So I promised to be at work no later than 9:00 this morning.
The G train's door opened at the Metropolitan Station in Williamsburg where I was to transfer to the L train for the second leg of my commute into Manhattan. As I attempted to exit the car, I was met by a wall of citizens trying to board the train even as approximately twenty of us were trying to leave. None of them would step aside! Since I was the point man for my team, I politely told my counterpart on their side, "Excuse me."
He wouldn't budge -- and he was the real problem, since he was about 240 pounds of man in a puffy coat. I tried again, "Pardon me." Nothing! So I squeezed by him and through the immovable crowd with an annoyed, "Jesus, get out of the way!"
As I broke through the other side, I heard one of them mutter to another, "What's his problem?"
On the L train, I stood next to a woman who looked like a supermodel. Not that she was attractive like a supermodel, rather she comported herself in a way that made her just seem like one. Despite her plain looks, she gave off a certain glamour that all the other passengers seemed to recognize. She smiled at them in a way that said, "Yes, I'm famous and I'm who you think I am." She also frowned in disgust if anyone coughed, sneezed, or sniffled.
When it came time to exit the train, she was the first at the door. I was behind her. When it opened she stood in the doorway without stepping out onto the platform just looking left and right. Again I said, "Excuse me." Nothing. The crowd was pushing from behind. "Pardon me," I tried again, barely able to resist the surging tide behind me.
Finally they pushed through and she was left standing startled on the platform, confused and stumbling. Still in the way, people were telling her to get out of it. She looked back and forth and said in a whimper that garnered no sympathy, "But I've never used the subway before! I don't know what I'm doing!"
I arrived at 9:15 pm.
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