Thursday, January 27, 2011

no pants

I had a bit of a traumatic experience last night on my way home from the gym. In the midst of my trying real hard to be a tough, know-it-all city girl, I relapsed and caved into my embarrassed, petrified, emotional little girl self after such a silly silly, yet daunting series of events.

After an exhilarating gym time with the roommies, I decided to opt out of the gym showers and shower at home. I was extremely confident I would be able to make this 15 minute journey with success. I repeated to myself several times the subway transfers I would make, and went on my merry way. Smooth sailing until....

I realized I forgot pants. So I started my travels with my gym shorts on, my snowboard coat and goosebumps.

p.s did you know that once every couple months they have "No Pants Subway Rides? If only it was one of those special days. I would have totally fit in.

First subway transfer was successful and my legs were still in tact. As I waited patiently for the other train, 40 minutes passed, and my legs became numb, and people began to stare.
I should have just owned it like this girl below.
"Its cool to wear shorts on the subway in winter, so Im going to swing on the subway rails and show you all whose boss."
Instead I sat like a fool biting my lip and pretending like I was looking at something important on my phone...when I was playing brick breaker...over and over again.

In frustration and a watery eye blunder, I timidly got on another train that unbeknownst to me, brought me 30 blocks passed my house into the Bronx.

I gave up and stormed out of the subway. Trudging through a couple feet of snow I was convinced it would be way more reasonable to cough up some money for a taxi. No taxi to be found. So, as a dark car stopped in front of me and said get in, you can imagine the internal battle. I just wanted to be warm, but there was something about getting in a dark unknown car that gave me the heebie jeebies. He assured me it was a NY car service. I saw the official tags, and jumped in.
The driver was nice. He called me crazy for wearing shorts. So I cried more. He demanded cash that I didn't have, so I wrote him a $10 check. I think he felt bad for me. I wonder why.


  1. Anna Elizabeth!! Don't you ever get stuck in the Bronx alone again!! That was a scary story and I felt bad for you too! Glad you made it home safe. Love you and miss you!

  2. Since some time has elapsed since the incident, (I didn't want to tell you "I told you so" at the time,) I want to remind you of my concern when you said you were making the trek back to your apt alone. I know you can be tough, I just want you to be safe!