Don't mess with a woman of the railroad. You'll be sorry.
Last week was one of those full on drencher, rainy days. By the time I left an appointment with my nutritionist to make my way to Penn Station and the commute home, it was pouring and though I had an umbrella, I was soaked, my knapsack was soaked and my sandals were shrinking to my feet.
When I got to Penn Station, I ran for my 5:50 train only to discover it sitting there with the doors closed. It was 5:51. I looked hopefully at the conductor. The doors miraculously opened. The commuter Gods had blessed me!
I bolted inside only to hear the conductor over the PA: "Ladies and Gentleman there was a lightening strike at Valley Stream and all train service in both directions has been suspended. This train is going out of service."
Okay, the commuter Gods hadn't blessed me.
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