Last week, I mentioned to a friend that I was going to spend an evening carousing in NYC with two mutual friends. His response? "You are nuts."
He may have had a point.
Because that outing broke a string of more than 20 years of successfully navigating public transportation.
Friday, not so much.
I knew I did not need that last drink on my way back to Penn Station. There had already been more than six hours of cocktails and tomfoolery, and I knew it was time for me to depart. Any good Jerseyan who spends time in the city knows the last train out departs at 1:42 a.m. My car was parked under KJ's building in Newark, and the last thing I wanted was to have to pay for a taxi back to Newark. As it turns out, that was not the last thing I wanted to do. But I digress...
But the crew assured me there was plenty of time for another drink, and indeed there was. I arrived back at Penn Station with 20 minutes to spare, and caught the 1:37 Jersey shoreline train. However, while I had the time for that last drink, I did not have the energy.
For upon seating myself on the train, I promptly fell asleep.
Fortunately, I awoke in Newark. Unfortunately, it was as the train was pulling out of the station.
In my sleepy state, I weighed my options and decided it would be best to get off at the next stop, the Newark Airport link, and take that over to the airport where I could get a taxi to take me back to Penn Station. That was a solid plan, albeit one that took an hour and featured a change of trains for reasons I could not quite understand. It also included a lot of walking, which I could have done without given that I was wearing my highest heels, strappy numbers that make my legs look terrific but which could be the least-comfortable footwear ever designed.
The mistaken journey eventually got me back to my intended destination. But then I had spent the last $20 I had on the taxi, so I needed to find an ATM as the parking garage only takes cash and Penn Station and its 20 ATM machines was completely closed. Me and my heels were trying to determine what to do when I mercifully remembered that KJ's building has an ATM. I walked the 1.5 blocks in Newark as quickly as one can in high heels and breaking feet and breathed a huge sigh of relief upon my arrival within the building's safe doors.
After a final challenge, when I had to find a security guard to allow me into the garade and then awaken the late-night parking attendant to let me pay and open the gate so I could depart, and I was on my way.
Fortunately, White Castle was still open at 3:45 a.m., so all was not lost...
He may have had a point.
Because that outing broke a string of more than 20 years of successfully navigating public transportation.
Friday, not so much.
I knew I did not need that last drink on my way back to Penn Station. There had already been more than six hours of cocktails and tomfoolery, and I knew it was time for me to depart. Any good Jerseyan who spends time in the city knows the last train out departs at 1:42 a.m. My car was parked under KJ's building in Newark, and the last thing I wanted was to have to pay for a taxi back to Newark. As it turns out, that was not the last thing I wanted to do. But I digress...
But the crew assured me there was plenty of time for another drink, and indeed there was. I arrived back at Penn Station with 20 minutes to spare, and caught the 1:37 Jersey shoreline train. However, while I had the time for that last drink, I did not have the energy.
For upon seating myself on the train, I promptly fell asleep.
Fortunately, I awoke in Newark. Unfortunately, it was as the train was pulling out of the station.
In my sleepy state, I weighed my options and decided it would be best to get off at the next stop, the Newark Airport link, and take that over to the airport where I could get a taxi to take me back to Penn Station. That was a solid plan, albeit one that took an hour and featured a change of trains for reasons I could not quite understand. It also included a lot of walking, which I could have done without given that I was wearing my highest heels, strappy numbers that make my legs look terrific but which could be the least-comfortable footwear ever designed.
The mistaken journey eventually got me back to my intended destination. But then I had spent the last $20 I had on the taxi, so I needed to find an ATM as the parking garage only takes cash and Penn Station and its 20 ATM machines was completely closed. Me and my heels were trying to determine what to do when I mercifully remembered that KJ's building has an ATM. I walked the 1.5 blocks in Newark as quickly as one can in high heels and breaking feet and breathed a huge sigh of relief upon my arrival within the building's safe doors.
After a final challenge, when I had to find a security guard to allow me into the garade and then awaken the late-night parking attendant to let me pay and open the gate so I could depart, and I was on my way.
Fortunately, White Castle was still open at 3:45 a.m., so all was not lost...
posted by jersey girl @ 5:34 PM
6 Comments:
At 7/14/2008 8:02 AM,
freakgirl said…
White Castle makes everything better...
At 7/14/2008 2:07 PM,
Brooke said…
Man, I miss Jersey. Our only late-night option is IHOP, which is definitely not White Castle.
At 7/15/2008 7:13 AM,
Anonymous said…
Could have been worse, you could have woken up in North Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Linden or Raway orr..
Can top you public transportation episode by one. The guy next to me on the bus this morning (bus was full, not an available seat) yacked all over himself. Not what you want at 5:30 AM after sleeping no more then a few hours each of the last 4 nights because your 1 month old twins have had fevers. I am a betting man, and I would bet he had white clam sauce last night, definatley had garlic. Luckily he was on the window and I was on the isle. Beware of bus #7465 (or 7456), about two thirds the way back on the driver side. As we deboarded, he nudged me and said sorry and raised his shoulders (meaning, what are you going to do? shit happens). He should be appologizing to the guy infront of him who had to get sprayed off the window, I escaped 99.99% of the episode, reason #4 for commuting sneakers.
BB
At 7/16/2008 1:15 PM,
MooseMan said…
NICE!
At 7/16/2008 11:05 PM,
jersey girl said…
BB, that sounds absolutely awful. I would certainly have puked as well. Nothing sends me to Yak-town faster than someone else losing their cookies.
Moose, I knew you'd like that. I can still bring it.
At 7/17/2008 7:12 AM,
Anonymous said…
I am happy to announce, bus #7465 is ready for passengers. When I get on a bus now, I look at the bus number. I froze in my tracks when I saw those 4 digits in order this morning and quickly took a seat in the front as opposed to 2/3's back on the driver side. No odor existed, but I did not investigate closely.
BB
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