(no subject)
the day actually started last night when i decided to ride my bike to columbia presbyterian to drop off my heart rate vest. probably the only wise decision; though the roads were quieter than i've ever seen there wasn't a parking spot around
on the subject of last night it started stressed because i can't accept people actually enjoying driving their cars, so i made up plans with my closest friend, brett gillingham, who is only close geographically. he told me he had something we can do.
he started up his video game system to have me battle him on a world war ii game i'd never heard of and he claimed to never have heard of. this friend loves selecting activities foreign to me and then pretending he's as absent-minded as i. he spent the entire game play saying, 'hey i didn't know you could use that gun' right before smashing my head in with the butt of it. naturally he chose to be a nazi.
so i was able to get out after three rounds of me stepping on landmines and trapping myself into corners, sore as i was.
my plan for the day was to get to the hospital, make the drop-off, and as much as i'd hate to admit it get to brooklyn to get vice because i never find it save for the office.
a different office called, however, and as i've always been told that monday office hours for showpaper are the most important, i went. not having a laptop computer, however, we had to go to an internet café where i paid $15 to use the internet on a beautiful day.
come the end i was sure i might as well stay another three hours because it would have been peak fares by the time i got to grand central, but the mta website would have me thinking otherwise. despite my doubts, the 'peak fares apply?' column stated that they did not, in fact, apply for the 4:20 express to white plains.
despite it being st patrick's day, grand central wasn't very busy. i foolishly bought my boarding pass before i got on the train, only to see the peak sign lit up. knowing that this usually meant i couldn't bring my bike, i looked into it. the conductors told me not a chance. i tried to argue that the train was about to leave and not only was it not crowded now, but since it's an express i'm the first stop. i was told if i tried to board the train the cops would be called. i inquired as to their st patrick's day spirit.
now because it was st patrick's day at grand central, the influx of a-holes began. i'm not talking here about the lady sipping vodka at the service counter. it was kind of charming and poetic when she told me that the sadness was everywhere because it had such good health care options. i'm instead referring to all the people who told me i had a nice bike...which of course made me a faggot. this isn't really worth mentioning because it's actually standard fare.
so here i am with the choice of waiting until 8 pm or riding home and getting there before 8 pm. similar to my earlier choice between making a train i doubted to be off-peak and getting to the vice office before it closed, i did go with the ride, my feelings and pride already shattered.
i've ridden to the city any number of times, but never rode back. i wasn't looking forward to it, but there were things i wanted less, so i set out. i was almost through the bronx in good time and i realized that it wasn't so bad. one block before yonkers the stabilizing strap on my messenger bag broke and i needed to call my friend alex.
he showed up drunk and maybe still drinking out of a big gulp, but it's tough not to trust a grandfather in a sports car. if you've ever been driving and a speeding two-door pounding with its bass-heavy sound system barely misses you and the car in front of you as it cuts across three lanes which makes you tighten your grip on the wheel as your heart rate rockets (too bad i wasn't wearing the vest for that!) well...that's the car i was in.
that was probably the only reasonable choice i made all day long.
on the subject of last night it started stressed because i can't accept people actually enjoying driving their cars, so i made up plans with my closest friend, brett gillingham, who is only close geographically. he told me he had something we can do.
he started up his video game system to have me battle him on a world war ii game i'd never heard of and he claimed to never have heard of. this friend loves selecting activities foreign to me and then pretending he's as absent-minded as i. he spent the entire game play saying, 'hey i didn't know you could use that gun' right before smashing my head in with the butt of it. naturally he chose to be a nazi.
so i was able to get out after three rounds of me stepping on landmines and trapping myself into corners, sore as i was.
my plan for the day was to get to the hospital, make the drop-off, and as much as i'd hate to admit it get to brooklyn to get vice because i never find it save for the office.
a different office called, however, and as i've always been told that monday office hours for showpaper are the most important, i went. not having a laptop computer, however, we had to go to an internet café where i paid $15 to use the internet on a beautiful day.
come the end i was sure i might as well stay another three hours because it would have been peak fares by the time i got to grand central, but the mta website would have me thinking otherwise. despite my doubts, the 'peak fares apply?' column stated that they did not, in fact, apply for the 4:20 express to white plains.
despite it being st patrick's day, grand central wasn't very busy. i foolishly bought my boarding pass before i got on the train, only to see the peak sign lit up. knowing that this usually meant i couldn't bring my bike, i looked into it. the conductors told me not a chance. i tried to argue that the train was about to leave and not only was it not crowded now, but since it's an express i'm the first stop. i was told if i tried to board the train the cops would be called. i inquired as to their st patrick's day spirit.
now because it was st patrick's day at grand central, the influx of a-holes began. i'm not talking here about the lady sipping vodka at the service counter. it was kind of charming and poetic when she told me that the sadness was everywhere because it had such good health care options. i'm instead referring to all the people who told me i had a nice bike...which of course made me a faggot. this isn't really worth mentioning because it's actually standard fare.
so here i am with the choice of waiting until 8 pm or riding home and getting there before 8 pm. similar to my earlier choice between making a train i doubted to be off-peak and getting to the vice office before it closed, i did go with the ride, my feelings and pride already shattered.
i've ridden to the city any number of times, but never rode back. i wasn't looking forward to it, but there were things i wanted less, so i set out. i was almost through the bronx in good time and i realized that it wasn't so bad. one block before yonkers the stabilizing strap on my messenger bag broke and i needed to call my friend alex.
he showed up drunk and maybe still drinking out of a big gulp, but it's tough not to trust a grandfather in a sports car. if you've ever been driving and a speeding two-door pounding with its bass-heavy sound system barely misses you and the car in front of you as it cuts across three lanes which makes you tighten your grip on the wheel as your heart rate rockets (too bad i wasn't wearing the vest for that!) well...that's the car i was in.
that was probably the only reasonable choice i made all day long.