a black woman, a hispanic woman, and a chinese guy are at a train station…

so here is a story of a series of unfortunate events, though they are not all connected to each other, they did happen within a small span of time. i went to new york to watch a taping of the colbert report with some friends, which i almost missed because i woke up late and missed the train to new york. my dad gave me a ride into manhattan, while lecturing me about how my life is wasting away because of my irresponsibility and lack of initiative, to which i unenthusiastically agreed. the show was awesome, even the warm-up, pete dominick. you don’t expect to laugh as hard as the people you hear on tv cause you never laugh that hard when you watch at home. you do. i always thought they pumped pot smoke through the ventilation to make people more giggly on tv. they don’t. i think it might just be the infectious quality of laughs that makes it funnier to a live audience, and with so many people in a small space, it spreads more easily, like aids in san francisco. after the show, i met up with some other friends for a little bar hopping, which involved a world record of 2 bars in 1 night. after the 2nd bar/restaurant, where we ordered and ate in extremely odd and staggered intervals because our waiters were all apparently meth addicts and juiced up to mach 3 speeds, we called it a night and headed for the bus station, though not before we played a long drawn out game of ‘how much do i owe’ which ended with me ponying up the extra cash to cover for the dumbfuck that clearly cheated his/her way through 4th grade math. instead of heading home on a train, as planned, i figured i’d head back to my girlfriend’s place for the night. well, we missed her bus when we went to the port authority, and decided to follow 2 of my future roommates and their friend from home back to clifton, where one of them offered to drive us to oradell. we arrived at the bus station in clifton to find my roomie’s pedo-van out of batteries because he’d left the headlights on. god only knows what people must’ve thought was going on in there for so long. we had to get a jump from one of their clifton friends who was gracious enough to come to our aid in the middle of the night. during this process, i decided to check the time on my phone, at which point i realized my phone was missing. i asked my girlfriend to call it, and heard nothing. i deduced that i must’ve dropped it coming back from nyc, on the soft cushy seats of an njtransit bus. this kinda sucked because it’s not even my phone really. it’s on extended loan from a friend. btw, if you found a motorola v600 while riding on njtransit bus 192, leave a comment under this post with your name and address explaining why the fuck you don’t answer my calls, dickhead. so, we finally made it back to my girlfriend’s house with that jump from a friend and a transfer to a more stable vehicle. i stayed the night and helped the lady do some job hunting the next day. i decided to leave at around 4 pm so that my parents would be home from work by the time i got to the bridgewater station. there’re 2 transfers getting from oradell to bridgewater and it costs $15 one-way. these outrageous conditions are why the world is dying from car exhaust. on the way to secaucus, i swear to god, i saw a hobo squatting down at the edge of the trees along the track, taking a shit and shamelessly staring into the train windows. it was the kind of image that might make for an internet phenomenon, given the right captions. lucky for me, i just lost my cellphone the day before and had no camera to take the picture with. you’ll just have to believe me. eventually, i made it to secaucus junction, where they apparently don’t trust you enough to let you wait on the track without a ticket. you need to swipe through some nasty turnstiles to even get close to crossing that yellow line that marks the border between a painful existence and a carefree life as a pollock painting. in a hurry not the miss the train, since it’s apparently all i do, i rushed through the wrong gate, realizing afterwards that there was only 1 escalator and it was moving in the wrong direction. i tried to exit back, but apparently secaucus also doesn’t trust you in the station without a ticket, because it rejected mine after i used it once to get through that same gate. so, left with the option of buying a new ticket from a vending machine ‘conveniently’ located just inside the turnstiles, or racing down an escalator backwards, i picked the latter, because i’ll be damned if corzine gets my fucking money for making secaucus an iraqi checkpoint. i started running down the escalator, fighting the upward current, and miraculously make it all the way to the bottom without tripping and painting the stairs with blood and brain matter. i got on the train to newark, which is a whopping 1 stop away, and transfered again to the raritan valley line. once again, in my rush to not miss the train, i got on the wrong one. instead of getting on one of the normal full trip raritan line trains, i picked the red-headed step-train that only goes to half the stops. the ticket checker realized this when he saw my ticket and told me i had to get off at the next stop and wait for the next train. i do this and end up at union station, walking into a waiting booth with a black woman and a hispanic woman. so a black woman, a hispanic woman, and a chinese guy are at a train station and after a couple minutes of understandable interracial silence, another black woman walks in and sits down. a few minutes later, the hispanic woman gets up and leaves, followed by the first black woman. so it’s just me and the new black woman. she looks to me and says, “guess it’s just us 2 now” to which i nod. then she asks me my name, to which i reply, “the aristocrat” to which she replies with an expression of idiotic confusion. at this point i begin to brutally assault her with a series of violent sexual acts that leave her crippled from the neck down. the right train arrives and finally, after an arduous journey through the nj transit system, i make it home just in time to meet the talent agent.