on the train
what happens on my daily commute
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LIRR, 4th of July
Riding back from a Long Island BBQ to celebrate the 4th, the train was near-deserted. I would have expected more brown bagged beverages, but actually, the train seemed more exhausted than eager to drink. Along with my two friends, I plopped into a six-seater, which housed a Snapple bottle already. We gingerly moved that to the floor, where it rolled back and forth all the way from Rockville Center to Jamaica, where we got off to transfer.
Across from us, was a young couple. The girl — pretty, with a white tube top and braids encircling her head — sat on top of the boy, and they canoodled the entire ride. When the ticket-taker came through, tiredly saying “Tickets, Tickets” they just ignored him entirely. He looked over at their tongues, and said quietly “Tickets?” and then sighed and kept walking.
A valuable lesson in fare evasion: if you make out on the train, you might intimidate the workers, or maybe just entertain them enough, so that they won’t take your ticket.
