I Hate Eating On The Train

My normal train to Grand Central decided to arrive to my subway station a few minutes early, guaranteeing me not making it and forcing me to catch the later train, which “conveniently” arrived a few minutes later than I would like.

This, of course, also forced me in the most inconvenient position of eating breakfast on the Metro-North to work. I hate eating on trains. There is no table to place your meal. no convenient way to eat a bagel with cream cheese and jelly without smearing it all over your face, hands and/or anywhere within a 2-foot radius. If you’re especially lucky, some globs of milk fat and high-fructose corn syrup with fruit flavoring may land generously on your lap and stain your work clothes. Oh the joys of long commutes!

You can very well imagine that this very thing did indeed happen to yours truly and is the fuel for this sporadic blog rant. Well that’s now out of my system. Here’s hoping the rest of the day is more pleasant.


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