Yesterday I was on the F train back from Brooklyn when it decided to become an A train. It happened at Jay Street, which is where chaos tends to ensue.
So when the F becomes an A (and of course, everyone acts like this is normal, like a shift in sexuality, but you know it's not! The F should be an F! The F should stay an F! It shouldn't convert to being an A!) it skips my stop. By a lot.
And then suddenly the most efficient route home is to transfer from my former F train to the jizm. The jizm, in case you're wondering, is not one of the greatest trains of NYC. But transferring seemed like a good idea at the time.
Broadway/Nassau approaches, and I'm transferring. 'Course, it's been so long since I've actually taken the jizm, that I forget which way I want to go -- Jamaica? Broad St? Metropolitan Ave?
I walk through the station, doing that thing where you don't know where you're going, but you act real confident as you go. I call this being a New Yorker. I'm pretty sure I want to take the train to Metropolitan, but of course, I'm actually on the wrong platform.
I'm walking to switch over when all of a sudden I hear:
Oh baby I like it
And I think, thank god for my iPod! I get to pretend I didn't hear that & definitely, that's not about me!
Oh baby I like it raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAW
I mean, I'm not going to look around at this point, but there's a chance that Ol' Dirty Bastard himself had come back to life to try and ride the JMZ too.