Striking Out

Very appropriate that the tale of my last post was set in the subway. I may never be able to ride the rails again. This transit strike may go on indefinitely and force us to car pool forever! Oh the horrors.

Actually, it's not been so bad. I'm one of the lucky few to have a vehicle and some coworkers to ride in with. After a brutal drive in yesterday, I wised up and took the Battery Tunnel today.

My little green Escort got into the city like shit from a duck's ass. Into the office in under an hour.

Of course, all the MTA strike drama simply distracts from the sad fact that I have to work at all, but that's another post.

What else is there to sayabout the strike? Well,it gives self-obsessed New Yorkers yet another opportunity to genuflect to their own toughness and resourcefulness. It gives us all more proof that the world does indeed revolve around New York City, in spite of current astrophysical theory. We are an anomoly. A unique and brilliant people destined to dominate the country's news media with every little adolescent fit we throw.

Can Touissant and Kalikow just have a fistfight and get it over with. Or just lay their manhoods out on the table, have Bloomberg wield the ruler, and declare the longest negotiator the victor. Except first, they'd probably have to agree on the formula that included girth as well as length. Then maybe they could add a category for technique, judged by Pataki. Now this is a negotiating process I could get interested in.

I can just see the headlines in the tabs: "Touissant Tool Trumps TA" "Kalikow Eats Union Meat" "Little Gloomy Bloomy".