the train and be in the city in about an hour. One of the disadvantages
is the local train, which services every one of the 7,429 stops between
my town and NYC. So against better judgment, I dragged my ragged self
out of bed before dawn and kissed my wife, baby and dog goodbye to get
one of the select few express trains that make just three stops along
the way.
Being half-awake (despite normally being an early riser) it was hard to
decide which ironic pop-culture T-shirt to pair with my jeans. The red
felt Cobra logo? The distressed Atari shirt? My Pink Ladies long-sleeve?
The choices were too overwhelming, so I opted for a classic blue shirt
with black
trousers/slacks/other-oldy-tyme-word-for-pants-that-aren't-jeans. Yes,
I'll look like a narc amongst the comic-book set, but c'mon... I'm
almost 30. I can make this tiny concession to maturity.
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