However, it is not my cock, nor any cock, because some people enjoy playing around with sweaty cock in their mouths and that is also totally normal. Sometimes I wonder about the efficacy of that insult. But we're getting off track here. Nor is the thing for you the barrel of a gun, because that could be seen as a threat. Instead, please amuse yourselves by sticking this 40.6" Hand Forged Samurai Sword in your mouths (every mouth at the MTA) because your shenanigans are too much to deal with on any given night, especially one where I'm actively trying to get somewhere.
And to think, none of this awful teeth grinding frustration would have happened if the Retail Jerk (a wholly owned subsidiary of Cerberus Capital) still had shifts that went until 1 A.M. See, getting off work at one in the morning, that breaks your spirit, makes you wanna just go home and die. Ah, but midnight, you're pissed and wanna blow off that steam. So off I went to see the excellent Luke Rathborne play a free show at The Living Room. Surely I would see most of the show, since the F train is only a ten minute ride.
WRONG ANSWER! The MTA, in its infinite wisdom, managed to schedule track work on the F line this weekend, a weekend of track work apocalypse. Which means getting to the LES from Brooklyn Heights took 50 minutes. What should have been a four stop jaunt became a seven stop odyssey, one that started with an evil portent when a work train sat halfway out of and halfway in the station for 5 minutes doing nothing, with an awaiting F train just hanging out in the tunnel, taunting me. And you best believe the train didn't run at normal speeds the entire way. Hell, the only reason I got there to see any of the set was because those jerks tied themselves in so many track work knots that they were forced to run the J through Broadway-Nassau. Had it not been for that, I probably would have missed the whole show.
Of course, this would be a relatively minor incident if it weren't for the fact that tomorrow I get to experience the joy of the three train commute because the G train is shut down for the entire goddamn weekend and the A is running locally. So it's Bushwick to Brooklyn Heights via the M to the J to the F. Good old MTA alphabet/cyanide soup, served up just the way mom made it.
And for the record, fuck the bus. I pay for trains, I want trains.