Oh yeah, life can be a real kick in the nuts sometimes.
I usually walk to the 7 train which is five blocks further from my office than the E or V train. I dig the exercise.
Today, I walked to the 7 train, and when I got to the train, there was caution tape around the entrance, police cars all over, and the whole damn place was complete chaos. Something was going on, but instead of walking away from it like a smart person, I walked toward it like a moron.
As I turned the corner, a police officer in a white shirt and gold badge (higher ups, usually Sargeants or some higher rank) jumps out from behind a building and yells at me to get the hell out of there and to look across the street at the man in the suit and that he’s about to defuse a bomb.
A bomb.
A fucking bomb.
This isn’t the sucky part.
I was taken aback by the officer jumping out and screaming at me, and I turned my ankle.
My calf muscle is now killing me. KILLING. KILLING KILLING.
So what do I do at that point?
The only thing I can do is walk back to the E or V train, another five blocks back.
With a limp.
Then down two flights of stairs to the train.
With a limp.
Then a distance of about 4 blocks to transfer to the 6 train.
With a limp.
Then standing and waiting for 10 minutes for a 5 train.
With a limp.
Then a climb up the stairs at the station at home. 2 flights.
With a limp.
Then down a flight and up two more to get to my apartment.
With a limp.
And now I’m home and I want to punch something it hurts so bad. Oh, and my 45 minute train ride? Well, it took me an hour and a half.
With a limp.
Standing the whole trip home.
On a crowded train.
Did I mention I was limping?
God it hurts.