January 07, 2004

Is there anything better than having a bunch of free drinks in Manhattan on a Wednesday night and then riding home on a PATH train where some remarkably-self-assured-in-the-face-of-being-completely-wrong guy sends a lost family out into the Pavonia/Newport station hopelessly wrong directions, refuses to admit either his error or even the possibility of one in the face of an entrie train car calmly, then increasingly heatedly, explaining his error to him, and then watching as he is forced to hurry out of the train car and up the escalator after some tough-yet-lovely-yet-still-tough young women threatens to kick his ass? I submit that there is not!
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