Okay, so it was cold and my fingers were getting numb so I wasn't playing so well and I forgot a chord here and there had the wrong harp for the key I was in and I totally sucked....but I didn't think I was bad enough to stop a train dead in its tracks.
It seems even I have a way of going above and beyond expectations. And, for the record, a lot of the above was for the sake of hyperbole; I definitely didn't mix up my harps.
The 1 train got about ten feet out of the station before dramatically screeching to a halt, launching its occupants hither and thither, and more importantly, ruining an awesome chord change in the folk song I was playing. I mean, come on! Nobody -- but nobody -- interrupts Simon & Garfunkel, Mr. Big Important MBTA! If you want to be all loud why don't you start making official MBTA amps so I can buy one and blast my folk-rock all over the place? Well? I thought so. I mean, honor me already! I was practically Bruce Willis from Unbreakable tonight! Surviving stuff all over the place. I may not have had to deal with stupid M. Night and his stupidness, but I had to deal with cold fingers! A-ha!
Okay, okay. I'm blowing this out of proportion 'cos it was a pretty awful night. I made 8 bucks. Enough to buy a hot dog and consider picking up a newspaper. Just consider. That's right, people of New York: I won't read a newspaper until you start giving me more money! You just better pray that there's not another gas leak in Chelsea, because the only way I'm going to find out about it is when they wrap up my stiff corpse with newspapers detailing the horrific details of the disaster.
That's right: I'M ON A NEWS STRIKE.
(By the way, I didn't mention nytimes.com in this boycott).
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