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Yahoo has a new blog thing. "Yahoo! 360" It doesn't have the member
mass of Xanga, but the features of the site seem pretty
comprehensive--being backed by Yahoo muscle has some obvious
advantages. It even has a widget that is connected directly to your
Yahoo 360 site, courtesy of Yahoo's konfabulator.
I think I found a new home for my personal blog. Check out my new personal blog here. My other blog is still under development.
http://360.yahoo.com/dravenace
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Hallvard. Taken in the final days and hours of matriculation for the Class of 2005.
After several months doing professional work as opposed to Stern work,
I must say, I enjoyed Stern work much more. Frankly, I miss college
lots, but I guess we can't stay in our little 30k/year cocoon forever.
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| I thought my Xanga writing days were over, but I am compelled to write about the latest episode of "Edgar's Commute Home."
So after a friend's birthday, I'm on my lonely way home. I was
expecting the same mind numbing commute as usual, but this night was
different. It was about 1:20. This time on a Saturday night is a
magical hour for the Jersey commute. It's after all the boring/working
people have already gone home and before it's so late that even the
drunkards are too tired to provide me with any blog worthy
entertainment.
At first, the scene was pretty typical...people packed in the 14th
street station, half the people tired and half asleep, sitting on the
ground or leaning on the columns, the other half inebriated and
obnoxiously jolly. Then, I get into the train headed to hoboken and
journal square. Ok, still pretty normal... I sit across from 3
women...they seem like they've been drinking, but not drunk...One of
them looks like she's about to vommit...Me, sitting across from her, am
preparing to lift my feet in a split second to avoid a "my sassy
girl"-like vomit scene. But still...I'm confused. They don't seem
drunk... I start eavesdropping.
It seems vomit-girl is deeply troubled by one of the panhandlers
working the train that night. Now, mind you, this is not a normal
panhandler. Tonight it is the homeless man with colon cancer. He has
one very troubling feature...when he makes his proposal as to why we
should spare some money, after his talk about not being able to work
and the government being too cheap to give him care, he lifts up his
shirt to show everyone a really gross tumorous growth on his abdomen. I
wish i could say it was all a gimmick, but judging from this man's
clothing, scent, and really gross abdominal growth, this man really was
homeless and ill. I'm tempted to give him money, but there's a reason
there are rules against pan handling on the train. If people freely
gave money to beggars on the train, more panhandlers would start
working the trains.
Here's a piece of the conversation I witnessed:
Panhandler: Can you spare a penny?
Vomit-girl's friend: No, please. that's really gross. Really...please go to a free clinic. they will take care of you..
Meanwhile, vomit girl has taken to hiding behind a stranger's back. I
am able to glean form their conversation that they had actually been in
a another train car before but "fled" to their current location because
of the colon cancer guy. Moments later the panhandler goes into the
next car. The girls breathe a sigh of relief. But then, ten minutes
later, he comes back...and the girls flee to the next car. On this run,
one inebriated man gives him $5. Jackpot! Nice man. The panhandler
kneels on one knee and thanks the man. Then, he moves on to the next
car...one minute later the same set of girls come running back in and
assume again their seats across from me.
Now comes the funny part. While the girls were away a white dude takes
a seat in the row across from me. When the girls come back, he
starts up a conversation. Man: "Was that thing real?" Ok, that line
worked, they're talking. He's chatting them up...talking about going to a
bar. He calls over his friends. The next line almost made me
burst out laughing. He says, "Come on, ladies, give me some numbers. I
feel it was fate that we met on this train." And that actually worked!
I'm thinking...It seems even a monkey can pick up women on a Path
Train. I have a huge grin that I'm hiding behind my Forbes
magazine. The other guys in the car are also smiling, entertained by
the spectacle in front of us. I overhear one guy say jokingly to a
stranger, "That was an excellent line, wasn't it?" I wanted to laugh so
much, but I did my best to focus on what Forbes says are undervalued
stocks in the oil and gas industry... I get the impression that the
article was talking a lot of sh!t, just like that guy seating across
from me.
Ok, journal square stop. I'm off...I'm racing up the stairs. I
overhear one woman yell to a port authority cop: "Where's the
bathroom?" The cop yells back, "there is none." The girl yells back,
"Where am I supposed to pee?" The cop shrugs... She says, "In a
diaper?" This too I find entertaining. I'm so easy.
Ok, onto the taxi stop. I deal with the swarming that happens once I
say "society hill." I'm a high fare. I'm quite the hot pick. I go with
the first guy to give me the price I want. Now, an odd thing about
Jersey City cabs. They cram as many fares as they can on each ride, and
they don't split the fare among them. Ok, I'm sitting, waiting. Lo and
behold, the other fare that my driver gets is the pee girl and her
friends. She made my ride home entertaining. Shortly after we left the
station, she yells: "Why won't that light turn green!? I'm going to pee
in my pants!" She tells the cabbie, "Run the red lights! more money,
more money." I like her. she's funny. Now her friend starts telling her
that she should have peed like the rest of them when she had the
chance. She responds, "I'm sorry Julie. I can't just pop and squat on a
platform. I like toilets!" hahahaha. Where would my commute be without
Jersey drinkers?
Perhaps the late night 1.5 hour commutes aren't so bad...Who am I
kidding? It really sucks. But thanks to the characters on the ride
home, it's just a little bit more tolerable.
Ok, it's late. good night.
My new site will be hosted by:
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