it's become a known quantity for the bastard…
crowded 7 trains are crowded.
the other known quantity is that a crap ton of people get off of the 7 train at the first two stops in the borough most thorough…
so the other other known quantity is that everyone who is getting off at those stops are as superstitious as a new Guinean cannibal getting his photo taken when it comes to the suspicion that if I step into the car at time square, there is NO WAY I'm going to be able to traverse the three feet to the door in time without saying 'excuse me' so I must stay in the middle of the car.
you see, saying "excuse me" may cause one 7 years of bad luck or something.
so getting home is all asses and elbows for the bastard.
tonight I push in and this little man who looked like a 4 foot tall aiden Quinn didn't want to step in.
well… no one did really even though there clearly was room to do so and aiden straightens up to push back but to no avail.
I roll in hard.
he turns around to give the stink eye but he gets one look at the outfit and sheepishly steps into the car.
I'm a little overweight and I have a touch of the asthma so all I have at the moment is an excellent scowl and the fact that I dress like secret agent skinhead.
hard mod in a trenchcoat
so I just roll hard, look angry at the person I have to push in with and hold my jaw in a manner that says "I will tear your windpipe out with my teeth but in an ironic way"
and one day this may not work on people anymore…
but it does now…
and oddly enough…
mini aiden Quinn was able to make it the three feet to the door without having to says "excuse me" or having his soul stolen.