Musings on the train

I'm on the LIRR right now, blessedly with just enough cell phone service to write this, as I've nothing else to do with my iPod incapicitated. That isn't true, though, because I have Infinite Jest in my bag, and another 100-odd pages to go. I've made it to the last page of footnotes, which is an accomplishment in its own right.

I am heading out to see the RHCP play at Jones Beach--hence this post's categorization. I don't have a pre-Music category, depressingly. Erin and her roommate were supposed to go with me and the Meltzers, but they backed out at the last minute because of the rain. I will resist the urge to talk shit about that because Erin is one of the few people who read my blog. But anyway, I find myself on the LIRR alone.

Which is not to say that I am on the train by myself. There's a guy sitting two rows in front of me, facing my direction, who's playing the obligatory guy-drinking-beer-on-the-LIRR role. Even before he busted out the Brown Bag he was notable for another brown bag on the seat next to him, from which he'd take out one magazine after another, flip through it a bit, and put it away. The process repeated 6 or 7 times. I didn't catch all of the magazines, but one of them was called Tattooes (sic.), one was a car magazine, one had a title like Tadui and appeared to be foreign porn, and one was Knives. He was obviously a man of varied interests. The cover story of this month's Knives is "Your Wildest Knife Fantasies," by the way.

I spoke to Anna on AIM and I promised to mention that she was in first place in her fantasy football league. I wish I had her team.

I had to grab McDonald's and eat it on the train. I am not happy about this. I ordered a Big Mac meal and they put an extra hamburger in it for some reason, although after further reflection I think they charged me more than just a Big Mac meal should have cost. So there is no Big Mystery there. Just forced consumption.

The family sitting around me just bolted from the train at the last second after much indecison. The ticket-taker came
around and yelled at them through the closing doors that it wasn't their stop. Oh well. I hear Rockville Centre is nice this time of year.

Off the train now at Baldwin. Absolutely no rain.


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