Don’t Cry For Me, Spilled Milk

Today was such a typical newbie in New York City kind of morning. I got on my usual train to get to work, and we hadn’t even traveled one or two stops when I began to notice some action on the train. Now, I had my head phones in, so I could not hear the drama, but this is what happened:

A homeless-looking lady bumped into a kind gentleman holding a Dunkin Donuts coffee. The coffee spilled everywhere, leaving a puddle that took up about a third of the train. Now, from what I gather, the woman must have said something to the man that incited him because the next thing I know, I see him sling the rest of the coffee right into her face. Now, she is pissed, and I began to worry. I’m afraid that one or both of these people is going to come for me next (completely unjustified), so I got up and moved to the next train car.

Once I finally got to my destination, I looked down at my coat and noticed that a bird must have pooped on me. That or somebody dropped whiteout on my coat without me noticing.

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