What a Way to Start a Vacation

Rather than everyone put in for vacation right at the end of the year, we were asked to use our vacation days sooner rather than later, which means I'm taking this week off. I'm not telling the kids because then they'll have me taking them all over god's green earth or having playdates with every kids in the neighborhood, every single afternoon and as much as like having playdates sometimes you just need to veg out on the couch, drink too much coffee and read. Or watch Oprah or some equally annoying show that makes me grateful to be working outside the home. Yay me.

All day Friday I was looking forward to going home, reading a book on the subway and starting my vacation. I discovered at my usual point of transfer that my train was "delayed," which happens every Friday night. It isn't a big deal, it means I get back on the train I was just on, take it one more stop and transfer for the other train that runs on my line. This is relatively easy, but can be a little confusing because you have to go upstairs, walk to the other side of the station and back downstairs. If the train you want to take is pulling in while you're still on the other side, you have little to no chance of making it.

I was rushing to try and give it a shot, following behind a man who was hell bent on getting on that train but when it came time to go back down the stairs, there was a young woman standing on the steps, oblivious to the log jam she was creating by just standing there during rush hour, listening to her ipod. This, in and of itself is annoying, even more so when you want to make that train, on a Friday evening at the end of a long week.

I heard the hell-bent man scream "Hold that train! Hold that train!" and I recognized him from my block, mainly because he is usually drunk and staggering home. Then the train doors closed and he yelled "F*CK!" at the top of his lungs.

Right after he yelled "F*CK!" he passed Little Miss Standing There and when he reached the bottom of the stairs he turned around to face her and began to call her a "worthless piece of sh*t!" and a "f*cking b*tch." Oh, I almost forgot. He also called her a "c*nt whore." But she can't hear him because she's listening to her ipod. So he's screaming at her, she's oblivious to the screaming and the doors to the train have magically opened again. Except now he's blocking the bottom of the stairs so no one else can get by. When he realized the doors were open, they closed with the impeccable timing the MTA possesses and the verbal abuse starts all over again.