Durf came home from work at 8 a.m. yesterday (his story), so we decided to spend the day at the American Museum of Natural History. Oh wait, did I say "at" the Museum? I meant "en route to" the museum.
Part of the problem was that when we arrived at Grand Central, we were starving. All the local taste treats looked marvelous. We just had to partake. And indeed lunch turned out to be delicious, even the $4 bottle of water I bought by accident.
Finally we were ready to take the subway uptown. I thought I knew which train to catch but the train letter I had in mind did not appear on any of the signage. And although I had my trusty subway map with me, I left my magnifying glass at home. I absolutely could not read the damn thing. Because we were in NY where public transit is unmatched, I firmly believed that we should be able to go from anywhere to anywhere in NYC without exiting the subway system in between. (Silly me.) So we (gasp!) decided to ask someone. We spotted a likely candidate standing near the ticket machines doling out unwanted advice to ticket-purchasers.
We approached.
We asked.
He paused.
I helpfully mentioned that we wanted a B or C train.
He raised an index finger, looked at me sternly and said, "You asked, now just wait until I tell you."
After testing our patience for an another minute or so, he delivered his moderately convoluted instructions. When he walked off, Durf and I conferred and decided to follow his directions. He nailed it, of course.
We enjoyed the museum, too, during what little time we had left of the day. Oh, but Durf did find some mistakes. (His story.)
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