Last Night’s Penn Station Shitshow And Bird Shit Galore!

Were you there? … because I was and I still have absolutely no idea what could have been the cause of last night’s mob scene at Penn Station.  Why there were about 1,000 people shoulder to shoulder when seemingly no trains were delayed is beyond me.  In hindsight, I should have expected something like this to happen.  You see, as I was heading into work yesterday morning I came across what appeared to be bird shit smeared all over the seat in front of me.

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Exhibit A: Bird Shit

Was this good luck?  I had my doubts, and rightfully so, because little did I know that in 8-9 hours that this would be an omen for things to come.

Now I know most people would be thrown off their game considering a bird would have to be physically inside the train and take a shit to make this great feat happen, HOWEVER, as you all know, we work in New York City, and this stuff is all too common.  For example, on lunch I saw a homeless person literally whip out his dong and just piss all over the sidewalk and then go right back to sleep on the bench he was sleeping on.  No lie.  It happened and in front of a CVS, no less!  Keep up the good work, Mayor DiBlasio!

Anyway, back to Penn Station.  8-9 hours later from the birt shit discovery I rolled up there lookin’ to catch the 5:45PM train home.  Of course my dumbass thought that I would just stroll in, buy a Vitamin Water (Zero) and take my seat without a hitch.  WRONG.  As soon as I passed the Auntie Anne’s I knew it was gonna be an uphill battle.  As I took a spot pirched above the Penn Station concourse I looked to my left to see a woman with a concerned look in his her eyes.  I turned my head back and laid my eyes on what appeared to be a sold out KISS Concert …

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CUZ I …. JUST WANNA GET HOME TOOONIIIIGHHHHHTTTT … LIKE EVERY OTHER DAY!

But of course, this wasn’t KISS performing at Penn Station, THIS was Penn Station/NJTRANSIT during Rush Hour and something had gone terribly wrong.  I mean just look at that scene.  The concerned faces, the hopelessness.  It still amazes me that this is somewhat of the norm for us nowadays.  Just rats in a cage being led by the hint of cheap cheese, all at the mercy of incompetant service, ancient technology and LED boards with letters on them that spell out “STAND BY”, “DELAYED”, “LMAO You Fucking Loser”.

Now if you can see my position in the photo above, I’m by the stairs that lead into the main concourse, which gave me a great view of the misery, but put me at a major disadvantage if tracks 1-8 were called.  I was worried, but I just couldn’t give up my spot above the masses.  Having the high ground is important, and for all you peeps out there whose childhood took place during the 90s, you learned that from the hit movie “Ernest Scared Stupid” or if you’re a bit older you learned it from “The Rock” starring Nicolas Cage and Sean Connery.

“IT’S OVER! WE HAVE THE HIGH GROUND!”

 

In this instance the commuter gods had mercy on me as I avoided tracks 1-8. Had any of those tracks been called I would have guaranteed myself a comfy squished standing room only spot in a vestibule not of my choosing. Fortunately as the announcement was made it was Track 14 that was my chosen path for this evening.

I proceeded to celebrate in great joy! All I had to do from here was make a quick right, use a garbage can as a barrier and pretend I was Saquon Barkley for a few moments as I juked and jived my way to the freedom. Of course, when I reached the track entrance I was blessed with this gorgeous view …

Ahhhhh yes! Remember riders … SAFETY FIRST!

From there I continued my quest down the stairs. I distinctively remember cutting off this elderly woman who had turned around to look for her husband. WHAT AN IDIOT! I exploited her weakness, sprung into the doorway and hit that escalator with a smile that hasn’t graced my face since my daughter was born.

Now for the final step – finding a seat! I sprinted down the corridor adjacent to the train and kept an eye out on an empty cart. To my surprise, I actually had beaten majority of the mob. I found a two seater, plopped my bag on my seat and pretended to sleep like any Good Samaritan would to avoid someone sitting next to me.

SUCCESS!

Ya know, now that I think about it, this commute wasn’t confusing at all. In fact, it makes total sense how everything worked out – how Penn Station was a biohazard yet I still got home on time. And you know how I know this? Two words …

BIRD. SHIT.

Yep, that’s right. As I was reminded later that evening bird shit is actually a form of good luck. LUCK WAS ON MY SIDE THE WHOLE TIME! And apparently you’re supposed to make a wish when a bird takes a dump on your head or something. I don’t understand the logic there, but fuck it … I’ll take it! HERE’S TO GOOD LUCK AND GETTIN’ SHIT ON!

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