On the way home

Ahh, the smells of New York.  Mmmm-mm!  The PATH train gets me from Nueva York to Jersey City.  Some stations have winding corridors – now I’m no engineer, but methinks the corridors hath an influence on the air currents. 

Once you’re on the platform at 9th Street and a train approaches, a stiff breeze blows your hair into an edgy ‘do.  The air travels on currents and the currents, invisible to us, look like slides in a water park.  There are blue ones for girl currents and pink ones for boys.  They like being contrary.

Girl and boy currents enter and exit the station, pass each other and gossip about air-related events — such as “who cut the cheese and interrupted a perfectly good flow?”, “Eau de Homeless Pee Pee at the turnstiles,” and “Wear a gallon of aftershave much?”  They’ve pretty much got us figured out.

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