March 03, 2007

Late Night Torture

Saturdays are long, long work days when I work them. I leave the house at 12:15 in the morning and I return home about 11:15 at night. Today was long, long, long.

One of the highlights of my long day was going home. I ran out of the theater, located at 45th and 8th, at 10:45, walked briskly to 47th and Bway. The train was just about to pull out when I ran through the turnstile and jumped in. I was so grateful that I made that train because after 11pm the N trains runs less frequently. "Ahhhh. Perfect", I thought. But life is seldom perfect when you're riding the New York City subway. There's always something happening to keep riders from getting too comfortable.

I got so absorbed in my book about the Judas Gospel, that it took about three stops, that's Lexington Avenue, for me to notice the annoying family sitting at the other end of the train. This mother was teaching her two daughters the poem Fuzzy Wuzzy Wuz A Bear which they then repeated over and over and over again. After repeating it about for what seemed like 1 billion times, the girls starting taking turns reciting variations on Fuzzy Wuzzy. They were still doing it when I was finally able to exit the train.

4 comments:

Walt said...

Don't tell anyone that I played with your monky! And what do you think of Judas?

Valerie said...

So far I'm enjoying it although not being very familiar with the story of Christ and his Apostles I do find the discussions of the different gospels a little confusing. When the author talks about the subtle differences, it's a bit much. I'm still working on it.

Sarah said...

I looked for the theater I knew you were at on Saturday (I was, where else? at Grey Gardens because all I ever do anymore is see Grey Gardens). We walked around before the show and went to Starbucks on 8th and 47th. I was looking for where your theater was but we didn't make it as far down as 45th.

Next time. Because I'll no doubt be seeing Grey Gardens again in a few weeks.

Vidiot said...

Which book is this? The one by Bart Ehrman?

And if it's any consolation, B. and I rode from Norwalk to Grand Central next to a woman who not only listened to her iPod very very loudly but also tunelessly sang along. Grrrr.