Change at Jamaica

I met up with a few old co-workers at Jakes Dilemma on 81st and Amsterdam. Just like old times I was quickly drunk and winless on the beer pong table. I got in a cab and headed to Penn Station. I made the 2:53 AM train, which required me to make the dreaded change at Jamaica. Anytime I need to change at Jamaica I get that feeling I’m going to fall asleep and end up in Babylon. I watch other people do it all the time. This particular night I was sure it was going to be my turn. My eyes were refusing to stay open.

I lucked out and woke up just in time to jump off the train at Jamaica. I walked across the platform where everyone was boarding the Long Beach train to realize that it wasn’t the Long Beach train. It was a westbound train, headed back to Penn Station. I quickly ran up the stairs and across the platform to the other side of the train only to find there was no Long Beach bound train there either. I started to look around and wonder if I had gotten off at the wrong stop. Jamaica was usually a busy station but tonight it was vacant. There was no one around anymore, no trains coming in or out. I decided there was a pretty good chance I wasn’t at Jamaica. The display on the monitor read: Long Beach 4:47. Regardless of where I was, a Long Beach bound train would be arriving in an hour. I sat down on the steps and nodded off a few times as I sent some drunk text messages.

Right on time the 4:47 train pulled into the mystery station. The doors opened and some people got off. I walked onto the train, glad to be finally resuming my trip home. I watched as the conductor dragged someone out of his seat by his arm telling him he had to get off the train. I figured he was being disruptive or puked or something. Then the conductor began walking towards me.

“This train’s not going anywhere, everyone off,” he said.

Shit….how could I have fucked this up again.

“This isn’t the train to Long Beach?” I asked the conductor.

“This is Long Beach.”

Hurricane Bill

Sunday's footage turned out useless due to a clogged head...fucking sand. Woke up earlier and sober on Saturday anyway, here you go...

Have you seen my friend??!!?!??

One day I will finish the video and the write-up of our May excursion to Nicaragua....for now here's the rough cut.

Andy Kessler

New York lost a skateboarding legend. Check out this guy's blog for more info.

The future's so bright...

17 years old.

The Hockey Train

9:53 or 10:53? It was 9:42 and I was at least a 15 minute walk from Penn Station. I had already missed the 8:53 and I didn't want to get home at midnight, so I jumped in a cab to catch the earlier train back to the beach. As I walked over to track 16 all I could see was a sea of blue shirts, long hair and missing teeth. The fucking hockey train. Please God, don't let the Rangers make the playoffs.

Editor's Note: The author actually loves the game of hockey, has played it all of his life, was a die-hard Rangers fan up until the lockout and still idolizes Mark Messier. However, any type of contact with the typical hockey fan makes him ashamed to be white. Due to a lack of hair and a love for his teeth he has replaced hockey with soccer and is currently working on improving his Spanish.

The combination of a 12 year old and an Asian tourist...

Did laps around the stadium, took close to 100 pictures and almost got kicked out for touching the dirt.