October 26, 2010 § Leave a comment
The New New Yorker
by Courtney Hilden
Apparently, this is my late week, because here I was, doing this all over again. I had timed my morning out perfectly and I was headed to the subway right on time. Everything was going fine until I tried to swipe my subway card. And it wouldn’t go.
I bought the card last week. My internship is paying for my transportation (as long as I bring in a receipt) and the card is for a month. I wandered over to the information desk, which I was already wary about doing. I had talked to this same guy ten days ago, and he had been completely unhelpful. I found out later he hadn’t told me where an entrance to something was, which, considering it was across the street, he should have probably known about.
Two questions later and I gave up on him too, trying not to think about the kinds of people who usually have a job like this. I tried to buy myself a one time pass. When I had bought my card last week, I helpless tried five times on one machine while four girls struggled with the other one. And today, neither was working for me.
The only chance was that this was the wrong subway card and that the right one, or at least one that would let me in, was back at my place. (All the cards look the same, so good luck figuring out which one is which.) The only thing now was to go back home and look for it.
So much for perfectly timing this out.