I Earned a Commuting Badge Today...

It's a bad sign when the train conductor comes on and announces delays ahead. It's even worse when he tells you that there are "switch problems," and they'll be opening the doors at an unscheduled stop so people can "get out, stretch their legs, have a cigarette." Eventually he told us that service had been suspended between Penn Station and Jamaica and Atlantic Terminal and Jamaica. The worst news came when the conductor came on to tell us that the train would be turning around and heading back to Penn Station. Actually, I can't even be sure that he said we'd be going back to Penn Station or returning to the yard. All I heard from him was that the train would be heading back in a direction I did not want to be headed. My ass came off that train seat faster than you can say, "suspended service."

Suddenly it's one for all and all for one, except it's also "every man for himself." The woman who proudly declared, "I'm following you," was eventually in front of me leading the charge to the subway. From there it was a matter of piecing together the route home from fellow straphangers while simultaneously standing inappropriately close to them.

"You can take the 7 train to Jamaica," someone said and off I went. Up the stairs and over to catch the 7 train. Aboard the 7 train, I felt comfortable because in 3 stops we would be at Jamaica Center. Except, as it turns out, Jamaica Center, is not the same Jamaica from where the LIRR leaves.

"You have to switch to the E at 79th Street," someone shared. That didn't sound so difficult. I deboarded the 7 train, found my way to the E train platform and boarded an F train. Yes, that's correct, an F train. I followed the crowds thinking I was boarding an express E train. Apparently, F trains were running on the E track. I didn't even know there was an F train, but two stops later and I was again deboarding the wrong subway, and boarding the correct E train. Finally aboard the correct train and sandwiched between two enormous women, I was feeling like a hero. "I'm going to get home tonight!"

"This is my 'nam," I thought to myself as the subway approached Jamaica.

"Babylon train, track 5," a police officer said as he attempted to help direct people.

Out of my way, that was my train. I wanted to throw a few elbows, but I restrained myself. I finally made it to the train and sat myself down next to a lovely smelling gentlemen wearing body odor cologne and in front of a woman with the bubonic plague. It didn't matter, I was on a train that would be going east towards my stop.

I left work at 4:15pm. Took a 2/3 train to Penn Station, caught a 4:37pm train from Penn Station to Lynbrook, we stopped unexpectedly in Woodside, where I caught a 7 train, then an F train, then an E train, and then reboarded a LIRR train at Jamaica, which brought me to my stop. I arrived home at 6:30. Two hours and 15 minutes of commuting. Four subways. Two LIRR trains. And that's not even including my morning commute.