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Tag Archives: rush hour
It’s 4 p.m., not quite rush hour, yet the car is packed. I miraculously get a seat, so happy because now for the next 20 minutes can blissfully read. A young mom with a little girl maybe 5, is squished … Continue reading
It was early rush-hour on a drizzly day, when the streets of Manhattan most resemble Tokyo. I was in step along with my fellow New Yorkers, right and left, crossing the grid like ants in a hurry. This was when … Continue reading
I’m on the number 6 train that’s turtling down Lex, packed in like a sardine. Feeling lucky at first, getting a seat, till a woman, the width of a warehouse, decides to plop herself down, pushing me against a man … Continue reading
I was coming back from a job during rush hour on the L train, a line I never take. There I was, squashed, in-between a woman with 8 shopping bags, and a young kid whose backpack was practically smothering me. … Continue reading
Schmuck, from the Yiddish word smok meaning penis, according to Webster, is a foolish and contemptible person, a nice way of saying someone’s an asshole, or a dick, if you will. Sadly we encounter them when we least expect to. … Continue reading
Last Friday, coming back from a job, I took the Number 6 train home. In all my years of riding the New York subway, I don’t think I’ve ever been on a wilder, crazier train. It was like a circus … Continue reading