My First Commute Back From Paternity Leave: Jekyll & Hyde

Guess who’s back … back again … my commute … tell a friend.

What’s up my fellow miserables! I’m back.  My Paternity Leave has officially come to an end and I’m back to the real world of 3PM coffee breaks and excel spreadsheets with a dash of non-stop conference calls.  THE. FUCKING. DREAM.  I tell ya, anyone who says going on Leave is a “break” is full of shit. In fact, Leave was one of the harder things I’ve had to do.  It’s legit W-O-R-K. Sure, it’s amazing and all.  I mean, bonding with your newborn is second to absolutely nothing.  I loved every second of it, but after spending all your time in the same house with the same people for a couple months your mind starts to play tricks on you. At one point I felt like I was in the movie “Room”, which is super fucked up if you’ve had the chance to see it.  Shit, I starting giving names to my furniture and everything.  Like my couch?  That’s Larry and he’s an asshole.   Anyway … when I bought my house I thought it was freaken huge.  Now I’m like “Well God Damn, I need to make more money.”  THE WALLS ARE CLOSING IN, MAN! I guess this is why some people think it’s inhumane to put prisoners in solitary confinement.   It’s 100% worse than being given the chair.

Anyway, March 5th was my official return to the trenches.  I had built up this day in my mind for so long that I started to think that it was bigger than it actually was.  It’s the Birthday party you planned that no one showed up to basically.  On Instagram it looked like I was preparing for battle with the White Walkers, but in reality it was just me getting my sorry, sleep deprived ass on a train to be at the mercy of Governor Murphy and the New Jersey Transit System once gain/eternity.  If I had to make another comparision, I’d say it’s the commuter version of the Fyre Festival, and much like Fyre, my return disappointed more than the bread and cheese sandwiches that those poor kids were served in the Bahamas.  It was plain and mass produced. Ja Rule got us again!


… oh you thought you were getting ya money’s worth? … child, please!


Shockingly, my first commute back was arguably the best commute I’ve ever had during my brief tenure as a (vomits in mouth) resident of the state of New Jersey.  I experienced ZERO delays with the highlight being this girl who decided that the empty train wasn’t enough room for her, so she decided on planting her big ass foot in the middle of the aisle.


Eventually some Asian dude tripped over her foot, and in a shocking turn of events of politeness, he actually apologized to the girl who had her foot out.  This caught me completely off guard … Where’s the animosity?  Where’s the rude and crude?  WHERE’S THE HATE AND THE TOXIC MASCULINITY, DAMMIT!?  I’ve been gone two months and this entire City has gone as soft as my Daughter’s shit.  Straight up mustard seed type stuff, you feel me?  Then again, the dude was Asian and I’ve never come across a mean Asian person in my life and I’d say that with my right hand on the Bible.

Yeah so, that was it for my first day back.  It was sunny and 30 degrees.  Not bad for March if I’m being honest.  It was at this point that I prescribed to the notion that maybe all the “effort” that Governor Murphy has put into place had paid off.  Engage, Inform and Improve.  What if it was the real thing?  What if I’ve been wrong all this time and it was just a mere coincidence that as soon as I moved to New Jersey that a stretch of bad commutes would come my way in the year of 2018? And it wasn’t just my commute INTO work that was good, it was also the one home! I took the 5:01 train home and arrived exactly 42 minutes to my destination.  In shock, I took to Instagram to admit my defeat.  I set my ego and desire for likes, retweets and content aside, and let the world know that my commute did indeed NOT suck.  In fact, it was good.

…. a little bit too good.

Now back to reality …

Less than 24 hours later I was reminded why I started this blog/IG in the first place.  The train that I arrived 10 minutes early for was running 10 minutes late.  Now, 10 minutes is an odd interval for NJTRANSIT.  It raises the eyebrows so to speak.  Usually it’s like 6 minutes or 19 minutes, but 10?  No, no, no my good friends, something was up with this train, but I just didn’t know what it was quite yet.  So as I stood there eating a MET-RX bar because I lift and don’t eat fake, shitty ass protein bars like Quest that’ll have you backed up and on the toilet and regretting your life decisions, I started to see the waiting area quickly become a fire hazard as loser after loser piled in to avoid the brisk 19 degree air.

The Miserables

To my surprise (that’s becoming a trend) the train DID arrive in 10 minutes though.  We even got on it and weren’t shoved into each other’s ass cracks which was a major plus.  After boarding the train I took my seat by the window so that the sun could provide me with some soothing rays and just like clockwork, I got hit with some fantastic news …

Yep, that’s right.  The train I just boarded, of which the doors were now CLOSED, would not be allowed to enter New York Penn Station because of “Mechanical Issues”.  Ummm … so the train is moving, but it can’t get into Penn?   To add to the drama, the Conductor kept saying that the train would be TERMINATED at Newark Penn?! Like, why so serious, broski?  Why not just say it’s the train’s last stop?  You a big Schwarzenegger fan?  Do you lift like yours truly?  Did you binge watch “Pumping Iron” on Netflix last night?  What’s the deal?  You know Arnold was on the juice right?


Moving on!  After that announcement we were on our way.  The guy now sitting next to me was watching Chopped on his iPhone.  Out of all of the shows, you choose Chopped?  It’s LITERALLY on TV for what seems like 24 hours a day.  I could host that show at this very second if they asked.  I wouldn’t even need to prep … Mystery basket this, blah, blah, blah, and TIME START NOW! … but I digress.  We hit Newark Airport next, only to be at a standstill for what seemed like 30 minutes.  Absolutely zero movement.  I had now started to regret my decision to take the window as my body temperature rose and my back started to sweat.  At least I burned some calories.  I would have taken my skullcap off but I have pin straight hair and hat hair wasn’t an option today.

Soon (but not really) after we arrived at Newark Penn and I transferred to my 2nd platform of the day.  We got on the train and set sail for New York.  No dramatics from here, although I did contemplate going home and asking the wife about kick starting baby #2 since my thought process that I’d rather be on this train than sleep deprived at home started to run its course as I figuratively and literally froze my balls off.

It was a standard ride, just about 30 minutes behind my normal schedule.  No big deal though, right?! I just have a family to provide for, a job and responsibilities to cover off on.  In Penn Station I did my best to avoid touching or making eye contact with anyone as per usual, although, I did find myself searching for some content.  Ya see, I felt a little unfulfilled with the lack of theatrics for the morning.  Sure, I was delayed, but where was the climax?!  Every movie needs one.  Then, like an angel swooping down from Heaven I was provided with the reassurance that my commute would be worth it.

No, it wasn’t a celebrity or two bums getting into a fight over prime time space under the escalator, instead it was this fine young gentlemen who took it upon himself to keep his kicks (that’s slang for sneakers to any of you old folks reading) “fresh to death” as the kids say.  Yes, wrapped in plastic bags this man strutted down the 33rd Street Platform like he was Ric Flair WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  And just when I thought it couldn’t get better, this dude decided to hit an imaginary person with the sickest Crossover since Allen Iverson was in his prime.  Straight up breaking ankles on ghosts in the mecca.  JUST LOOK AT THIS DUDE’S SWAG!!

In total, what should have been an hour or so, turned into 1 hour and 40 minutes of total travel time.  #NotGood.  This is my second day back and I’m already taking the Ls on the chin. Whataya gonna do?  Like I always say, where there’s a will, there’s a delay.

It’s good to be back, but not really this fucking sucks.

Also, P.S. to all the ladies out there … what’s with the no socks in 19 degree weather?  Is fashion that important?  You ever hear of pnemonia?  Ain’t nobody looking at your ankles in this weather!

Follow me on TWITTER: @commutesucks

Follow me on INSTAGRAM: @yourcommutesucks


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