Rain, lightning, thunder this afternoon in the city. Got to PATH soaked, took the train to Journal Square. Bad news imminent - we arrived at the wrong platform! Listened to a mumbling conductor about service to Newark completely shut down - bad signals. He mumbled more about going up to the bus area. Beat it up there to see none. Soon there was a multitude - wall to wall peeps lining the sidewalk and sticking out in the road.
Buses arrive, but park a long way away on the opposite side of the concourse. People go over and inquire, but are refused. One labelled Newark edges over to us and stops - people are out in the road, it can't move. It edges closer and closer. People are yelling "Stop here. Stop right here!" The cops tell us "This happened last week. We have enough buses. More are coming, please don't hurt yourselves." The doors open and the sheep pack in toward the door. The sheep are shoving, but in a cheerful way, if that is possible.
I trip over unseen feet. A black lady in a caftan shouts to people "Don't push. Please be careful." She sees me trip and grabs my arm, asking "Are you OK, sir?" I say "Yes, just feet." and we get back to getting closer to the door. She is right behind, and as I get to the bus I grab her arm and tell her "We're married now!" I edge up to the step with her arm draped over my shoulder and a guy tries to wedge in. I yell at him, "Let my wife on!" and he subsides. We get on; I motion to her to sit next to me, but no, the very short second marriage is over. She has friends to sit with.
A really good-looking young black girl is standing up in the aisle. She has a great face and really short hair, a combination I enjoy. She is a bit pudgy, but it could be overlooked. I think maybe a third marriage, since the second did not work out. Alas, it was not to be!
The bus starts to inch forward. All of a sudden the good-looking girl is growling, "Hey, hey, hey, hey!" Another woman behind her has a REALLY big purse with an umbrella handle poking out. The umbrella handle is poking the good-looking girl in the butt. Things subside. The big purse lady glances over at me and we both get big grins on our faces.
The bus inches and inches. It goes a foot or maybe two at a time, then brakes screech and groan. Once it starts to get a bit of momentum, then the driver jams on his brakes. The good looking girl goes down against a Mexican guy. We all grab her so she doesn't get hurt, and she shouts out "I'm all right. I'm OK!"
More inching. It's warm in there, all armpits, assholes, and elbows. The bus is packed! We come to a swamp, at least 3-4 feet deep. It used to be called an intersection, but now they could rent boats. People are still trying to inch through. Some cars are dead, right in the middle of the road, people still in them. The bus finally picks up speed after it leaves the swamp. Just another 15 minutes and the New York sheep are safely at Newark Penn Station with an hour lost to something different.
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