to the people 2 rows ahead of me, I understand that you and your girlfriend are upset about the election results... but it's fricking 8:40am and I am trying to sleep since, unlike you, I am not skipping work to see if "Democracy Plaza" is 'still there'... so quit effing talking at the top of you lungs.
to the mom and dad 5 rows up... that's nice of you to bring your THREE kids (all under 4) into nyc... next time drive a fucking car... 'is this new york?' "no." 'is this new york?' "no sweetie" 'whyyyyyy?' 'wahhhhhhhh'
me: !$!#@
I hate the 7:51 train... from here on out known as the RifRafExpress
there was another car I moved from before because there were 5 kids across the aisle from me (between 6 and 10 yrs old) and a gaggle of about 20 yammering russians (actually the one russian dude in his 20s sitting next to me before long branch was hot & smelled good... wanted to write that but he was reading my treo over my shoulder)
I think I want to start a petition for a kid's car for the train. make the conductor dress silly and keep them out of my frigging hair.
in the immortal (and repetitive words of the one kid who's parents are now effing SINGING):
"is this the last stop?"
nope, erin, you poor bastard... there're 13 more stations to go.
::: plunked in on my treO:::
