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Writing Tripe Since 2004
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Friday, November 11, 2005
My Birthday Post
Monday is my birthday, but I took the day off work, so I won't be posting. I tried and tried to come up with something deep and meaningful, some probing birthday question. All for naught. So instead I have decided to share with you, my birthday audience, one of my shining moments.

I actually made Becky promise not to tell this story, but I think the time has come for it to be revealed.

It was the end of a brilliant long weekend in New York. With Becky and Wes (and various other bloggers at various other times) by my side, nothing went wrong. I didn't get lost on the subway, I didn't get mugged. . .none of those things that we country folk worry about when we go to the big city happened. All that was left was for me to get back to the train station. Becky kindly volunteered to ride the subway with me, so we headed out, with me dragging my huge rolly suitcase behind. The streets of New York are no place to wheel a huge suitcase, as I had learned on my trip to the hotel. People were getting really annoyed with me. I was about ready to ditch the stupid thing after lugging it down the subway stairs for one last time.

I stepped up to the electronic ticket machine and for some reason I couldn't figure out how to get a ticket for just one ride. I have this thing...I'd rather pay extra, drive to the next exit, eat something I didn't order, etc. rather than have everyone stop their lives while I figure out what I was supposed to be doing. So I just bought an unlimited ride one-day ticket for $7.

So then Becky strides through the turnstile, being encumbered by a huge silver rolly suitcase. But I cannot get myself and the suitcase through the turnstile at the same time. "It's fine," I think, "I have an unlimited pass." So I shove my suitcase through and tell Becky to grab it, at the same time as she is saying "but I don't think you can. . ."

Guess what. Turnstiles are smart. They have memories like elephants. I couldn't run my card through again. There's a rumbling in the distance. I'm on one side of the turnstile and Becky is on the other with my suitcase.

I couldn't think of anything else to do but step back to the ticket machine. This time I find the one ride ticket.

My last subway ride in New York cost me 9 bucks. Becky thought it was funny.
posted by LoRi~fLoWer
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