Late yesterday afternoon I drove to the subway for a ride downtown to meet a friend in the East Village (Greenwich). We saw the new film Becoming Led Zeppelin which was very, very good. If you appreciate the group, their music or a solid well done rockumentary, I recommend you see it. After the movie we ate dinner in a Ukrainian restaurant. I had no alcohol, but drank plenty of water, even had a mug of black tea with dessert. After dinner we said our goodbyes, and I trudged a few blocks in the bitingly cold wind and snow to the subway for my ride home. As I’m walking the thought crossed my mind that maybe I should have hit the men’s room before my hour plus trip home. Nah, I’ll be ok…
I waited 10 minutes for my first train and less than 10 for my transfer. So far so good! Some guy with a Pit Bull service dog got on the train and got into a tussle with a drunk (he reeked!) who was smoking a joint in the subway car. He started screaming at the guy, “put that out! put that out!” He swiped at the guy’s dangling blunt and a thug nearby said, “it’s ok, just don’t touch him, don’t touch him.” The guy with the service dog then jumped on the drunk and ripped the joint out of his mouth. If I’m not mistaken the drunk looked like he was about to pass out, but this was an interesting g development… physical contact… I said to myself nothing good is going to come of this, so I got up and walked to the other end of the car. Amazingly the dog laid serenely on the floor of the car while all this was going on! Fortunately it was otherwise a non incident and we all shrugged it off as another evening in the Big Apple.
So I get to my stop, walk to the garage and get in my auto and hit the road for my 18 minute ride home. By this time the pressure in my bladder was
intense. Finally, close to home, I'm off the highway four blocks from my house. I Gotta Pee! A cop pulls me over. Said I was doing 41 in a 25. I said i was out for dinner and I have to pee. I live two blocks away. So of course, the focker took my license and registration and went to look me up. Five minutes later (five minutes!) he comes back and says he’s letting me go because of my age. Thank you officer (
you punk!). Finally home, I ran past the dog and took a good one. Aaahhh…