Dearest G Train of New York City:
I often speak so highly of you. Truly. But just when I need you the most you stomp on my freshly clean morning look. You cause me to panic with the thought of lateness. It's hot and now I'm sweating.
A packed train arrives to the station. People squeeze on. Alas, there's no room for me and loads of others on the platform.
A second packed train comes by. A random passenger deep in the train car yells out, "Step out so the doors can close! There's another train directly behind us! We are all going to the same place!"
Lies. But I concede and continue to wait with the rest.
Fifteen minutes later the next train arrived. Just as packed as the first two. I must push my way on. The waiting and lateness is so stressing me out. So I squeeze my way on with no pole to grab onto, but being packed like sardines is actually a pretty secure (from falling) way to travel on the subway.
--
I just learned online of the accident that caused these delays during morning rush hour commutes.
OK, I know it's not all about me, and not necessarily caused by the G train itself, but about the supposed man who was struck and injured by the train early this morning, which caused police investigations and annoying delays.
I get it.
It's horrible, I hope he's ok.
But, now the only question that remains for me is, how do you get yourself struck by a subway train?
I suppose that's a rhetorical question?
