By Beauty Damned

Up To Here

I've really had it. I feel my patience wearing so thin and my psyche becoming fragile with each new day during which I am forced to endure the train ride into work. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to knock the living daylights out of someone. Anyone. But preferably the person(s) responsible for raising the fare and providing less than adequate service. Every day it is something. If it is not a train whose doors won't close in Grand Central, it is a broken rail on 125th Street. If it is not that, it is police activity or an investigation on 34th Street or general congestion coming over the bridge. If it's not that, it's a sick passenger or it could just be that the conductor is in a snit and feels like tormenting commuters. That's what if feels like sometimes. Like this motherfucker is enjoying this. You can hear it in his voice when he comes over the intercom and with a condescending tone says "This is your conductor. We have serious delays up ahead. Please be patient." Meanwhile the air conditioner is blasting, cranked up to 50 degrees and freezing the ass off every man, woman and child. I guess that's where my extra fifty-cents per ride goes. Into converting the train into a fucking meat locker. You should never have to carry a jacket with you in the middle of summer so that you can take the train and not get hypothermia. This morning the only thing keeping me warm was the fact that I was stuffed like a sausage into a train car, disturbingly pressed up against numerous strangers, one of which I was ready to beat with my purse because she insisted on stuffing her fat ass into the car despite the fact that there WAS NO ROOM, and I would have too if I could have lifted my arm high enough to bring my purse down on her fat head. You didn't think you could fit another person in there. But with a massive shove to my rear, she did it. At the expense of every other person in that section.

I left for work extra early because I am tired of stressing out every time the train comes to an untimely halt, but whenever I do that, things turn out to be worse than ever. I'm not kidding. It's like some evil hand of fate reaches down every time and smacks me across the face. "You think you're going to get to work on time Maria? HAAA! It looks like that doesn't it? If the train would start moving and just keep moving you would get there a little early wouldn't you? BUT THAT'S NOT GOING TO FUCKING HAPPEN!" Eeerrrrccchhh! "This is your conductor..."

In all seriousness. I am strongly considering moving out of this city because of this one hellish thing that I feel is going to cause me to have a coronary one day simply because it is so excruciating on a level I have never known before. Do you think I just need to take a disco biscuit?