The last train out...

Riding the train, especially one of the last trains of the night out of Grand Central is a singularly unique experience... And not in a good way.

If riding the train can sometimes be obnoxious, the late night trains elevate all those bad qualities to a whole new level.

Right now I'm on the train after a long, long day. The train is a short one with only four cars open. What this means is there's no such thing as a quiet car. Every car is full, not to brimming but crowded.

Diagonally opposite me, a woman wearing flip flops with some tattoo on the side of her foot (writing I can't read) is trying her best to see if it's possible to get into the missionary position with her boyfriend in the narrow three seater they occupy.

It's a hard battle especially in her weight class but she's trying her best.

In front of them the drunks are having a convention. They are dazzling the rest of the car with lurid tales of fellatio in classrooms with 9th grade teachers. The volume of their voices only manages to increase with each additional stop.

If I said this is fun, you'd know I'm being sarcastic.

Me, I've got the headphones in for my new phone even though I am trying unsuccessfully to drown out the dull roar.

I guess though on the plus side, I'm able to write about it as it happens. I don't think anyone who is loud or wasted is over the age of 25.

I'm a bit amazed at the total lack of self-control and then I think back and wonder if I exhibited the same stupidity. The other thing that amazes me is how the conducters are so totally removed from it all. It's like I'm babysitting someone else's kids.