Profanity

I realized last night as I texted my angst to a couple of people and never got a response, I don't have anyone to bounce angst off anymore. When you are in a couple, you have someone to vent at and get sympathy. I think it's at the point where sympathy is in very short measure and all of my friends are in relationships or are just plain lazy with their phones. So I decided last night, I am going to do the majority of my venting on here :) YAAAAAY I hear you all say. (all two of you who ever bother to read this).

I had a bad evening yesterday. I was at boiling point at approx. 6.15 PM and could have been mistaken for a homeless or unstable person wandering around the subway station. First off, let me give you some background info. I am trying my best to budget and watch money. i am having EXPENSIVE dental work done and it's kinda killing me right now. Also MTA = Metropolitan Transportation Authority = fuckers who bring the city to its knees on a constant basis.

OK so I was feeling good yesterday evening as I had decided, along with the masses, I needed to get my keester back into the gym. Yep! (In fairness I had only lapsed for about 4 weeks, I am usually a regular) I got off the Metro North train at 125th st. Navigated my way through the rush hour crowd, street vendors, dealers, under cover and uniformed cops the one block to the subway station to get to the 96th st subway station. I had my metro card and a $20 in hand! I got to the station at 5.55pm, delighted that I would in all probability be at the gym for 615, ensuring I got a semi-decent amount of time half arsedly exercising. So I q'd up to put the money on my card, inserted the 20, saw a balance on the screen, headed for turnstile and "insufficient funds". Nah, I must have swiped too fast, so I swiped again and the same message came up. I went to a different turnstile, same message.

My stomach dropped and my heart sped up. WTF? I just put a 20 on this card, and I have a minimal $13 left in my wallet and I cannot spend from my debit card. SHIT! I wanted that $13 for other minimal purchases maybe tomorrow or even for a cab to work on Friday because it's supposed to be absolutley beyond cold again. Plus, this is going to be time wasted. Dammit. My first instinct was to skip the gym. No, I had come this far. I could have just used the $10 there and then but, fuck it, the MTA get away with this sort of shit all the time. I had to fight for this $20 so I got in line for the booth agent dammit. Some dude asked me for a quarter while I was in this line and I responded in such a tone, I think I scared him. "no I don't have a quarter, I don't have ANY quarters!"

Some guy tried to cut in front of me also, but for the split second that he looked away, I got up to the agent, card in hand, relieved and just glad to have this all sorted out. Sadly, this was not to be. I explained to him what had happened and God love him, he was nice, but gave me the bad news as he handed me some envelope, "I cannot do refunds. You need to get the machine number and call the number on this form. I can give you a courtesy pass into the station now"

WHAT THE FUCK? What if I had ZERO money? What then? What if I had been down to my very last $20 and had put it into the card, which is almost true. I asked him "how am I supposed to get home if I chose now to go downtown?" (I live UPtown) and all I received was a shrug. My rage did not hit me until I was about 5 paces away from the booth. By now it was 6.10. In New York, this 15 minutes is the difference between hitting your bus on your way HOME, this is how far in advance you have to strategize. At the booth I was akin to a goldfish, mouth opening and closing as my heart sank. 5 paces away? I turned into a total psycho, the type of person you step away from. There were three cops setting up an inspection table, and I am sure my loud "for FUCK sake" attracted their attention, but even they avoided me.

I stomped up the stairs until I could see reception bars on my phone and proceeded to dial the number. As I was wearing gloves this did not go according to plan. Further infuriated, I ripped my gloves off, all the while swearing and effing and blinding, close to tears at the injustice of it all. God help the operator I get through to. I went through two menus when the realization hit, the fuckin place is closed. Snapped shut my phone, stomped back down the stairs and marched back up to the booth demanding to know WHY I had been asked to call the number, when the place is closed. The agent, seeing I was pissed beyond pissed just andwered, nicely as he could, I needed to call them from 8 AM onwards.

Knowing I was utterly defeated and any further outbursts would probably end in my arrest, I asked him as calmly as I could to open the gate. Still close to tears with rage I barged down the stairs, 20 minutes now behind schedule and hit the gym for an hour. A half-hearted hour. My enthusiasm and gusto had faded with the first "insufficient funds".

Other people have had this happen to them, of course they have. But when I got home last night, an hour later than scheduled, and I had long since calmed down and resigned to spending the other $10 on a new card, it hit me that I reacted more or less exactly as most New Yorkers do. Time is a precious thing in this city of ours. Things sometimes spiral out of your control and the hidden type A personality comes to the fore. Ugh!

One more gripe I have with the subway is how utterly infuriating it is when people insist on blocking the top of the stairs at the entrances to talk on their phone! REALLY? there is NOWHERE else you can talk? You absolute DIPSHIT! And breathe. This has been a very therapeutic exercise. I still love New York!