Speaking of expectations...I nearly wrote this blog post last night, in which case you would have gotten a lengthy screed involving me giving a viking blood eagle to the children of the head of the MTA. I would have summoned dark gods to devour his soul and the furies to chase him through all eternity, but my lady friend came over and calmed me down. Now I'll settle for forcing him to watch endless episodes of Mama's Family and eating nothing but brussel sprouts and matza.
Anyway, after a single drink (no really, just one) with my co-workers I headed to the Q train...at 742 on a Monday evening...hardly late...the sun was still out for christ sake! I waited on the platform for a Q train for 45 minutes, before I finally went and berated the poor attendant in the booth. She called Dekalb Station, who told her to call City Hall, who then sent her back to Dekalb Station. Apparently, no one had any clue where the Q trains were. She then informed me that the heat was causing mechanical problems on several lines.
Two things:
A - How the fuck do you lose an entire train line? The Q isn't even that long, sure it goes out to Brighton Beach, but it stops at 57th St...where did all those trains go on a Monday evening?
B - HEAT!!!!????!!?!?!?!?!? That's your fucking excuse!?! Heat? Really? Word? That's what you got? 102 years of MTA service and you fucktards haven't figured out how to make your shit work on a hot day?
Honestly, despite my grumpy demeanor, I'm a pretty laid back guy, BUT, and this is a Michael Moore sized but, nothing infuriates me more than the incompetence of the MTA. The steal my life, a little bit at a time...and I can be as angry as I want to be about it and it will not affect them in the slightest. The fact that I eventually stormed out and took a cab in no way impacted the MTA...they can continue to be awful with no regard to their customers. Makes me go batshit feral.
Anyway, this PB&J being mellow, which I like far less than PB&J when they rock.
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