Back to the grind
The first few days back at work, I hardly noticed my commute.
Since then, I have had train doors close in my face (preventing me from boarding), subway cars so packed I felt like a sardine, broken escalators, a river of spilled coffee racing past my feet, unexplained track changes in Penn Station, a homeless guy trying to con me out of $$$ so he could buy beer, music so loud it leaked out of the listener's earbuds, and a guy who cursed at me in two languages for daring to sit in the empty seat next to him.
Business as usual, I suppose.
Since then, I have had train doors close in my face (preventing me from boarding), subway cars so packed I felt like a sardine, broken escalators, a river of spilled coffee racing past my feet, unexplained track changes in Penn Station, a homeless guy trying to con me out of $$$ so he could buy beer, music so loud it leaked out of the listener's earbuds, and a guy who cursed at me in two languages for daring to sit in the empty seat next to him.
Business as usual, I suppose.
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