Playing It Cool
I posted on Examiner, and it’s really too short for me to paste an excerpt here.
I would turn comments off so you didn’t feel obligated, but Feedburner puts the comment link at the bottom of the entry no matter what, so it’s moot.
4 Responses
ALL HAIL THE GIRL (me) WHO READS EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR EXAMINER ARTICLES.
Please feel free to worship me as a goddess.
I’m sorta too busy for the worshipping, so instead I’ll mail you the 43 cents you’ve earned me.
OK, here’s my story. I live in STL, and last year there were two hurricanes right in a row that hit Texas, then, instead of burning themselves out over land, just headed right for us. Of course, they weren’t hurricanes anymore, but it was just a wall of water for three days straight. I live south of the city and go to school north of the city, so I was Metrolinking it. I left school, and by the time I got to the train station (which is ON CAMPUS), my jeans were soaked to the knees, my sneakers were full of water, and stuff I had brought to school to scan, that was tucked away (”safely”) in my backpack was ruined. My first train went OK, but then I had to transfer. What is normally a 5-minute wait stretched out into a half-hour. Finally, a train pulled up. I strode confidently on, not realizing that it was going in the direction I had just come from, not the direction I was headed in. Fortunately, by the time I got turned around, the right train had come and the platform was empty; no one had seen me get on the wrong train. I felt like I was a retarded kid whose mom had just taught her to ride the train.
You mean no one saw you BUT JESUS.
In situations like these, I find it’s easy to make myself feel better by needlessly defacing public property. I hope the Metrolink has carpet like the DC rail and that you wrung your soaking pants out all over it.