Holy Fuck Me
After coming off the high of acquiring the aforementioned Tool tickets my girlfriend and the couple we are going to Tool with took a ride into NYC. Our primary objective was to see Bodies: The Exhibition, a friend's new apartment with a great penthouse view and balcony, grab a bite and be on the 10:40pm train home.
At noon that day, it was raining and cold; a plain old miserable day. We somehow managed to get our shit together and catch the 12:30 train in. As we walked into Grand Central Terminal, a friend of ours was standing there in wait, we'll call him Bormanus. He successfully coerced us to accompany him to a nearby bar, Casey O'Fucksuck's or something like that. Two or three beers, and one bizarre conversation with some Irish bastard on the rules of baseball, we managed to get ourselves back on track and headed for the Bodies ordeal.
Bodies... Well, bodies was pretty fucked up. The air was hot and smelled peculiar, and there were grotesquely dissected bodies every-fucking-where. To be honest, the first few areas got to me. Exposed muscles, often filleted, internal organs, skin, etc. All standing there with the same stare of a mass murderer. I pretty much had had enough of the thing when I saw a skeleton holding hands with the muscles that used to surround it. However, the circulatory and fetus section were fucking awesome and make the visit very worthwhile.
Friend's apartment... The view was excellent, right in Hell's Kitchen. Stunning. Then we decided to grab a bite. So we now have the four original members plus another girl and her very odd brother. Fast forward. The restaurant had, flat out, the worst service I have ever experienced. Everyone ordered a ton of food, and ate less than half of it; it made me kinda sick. We headed to the train.
The best part... 25 minutes into our journey from Grand Central to CT, as we sat in the bar car sprawled out with no more than 4 other people in the car, a fucking crash and sparks to high hell occurred all around us. The fucking train driver-guy somehow managed to catch the arms that make contact with the electrical lines overhead and rip the fuckers right off the top of the train. We are now stopped. With nothing more than emergency battery-powered lights. I wish I could explain the gradual transition from joking and silliness all the way to fucking infuriation. I can't do the story justice, and you all probably wont care to read the whole boring story, just know that after leaving NYC at 10:40 on train with an arrival time of 11:30 we managed to crawl the way home by around 2:00am. I love having to be at work four and a half hours after going to bed.
Fuck Metro-North railroad. Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em right in the eye

