It was an Amtrak
security guard that had snatched Jay. We all get on the
train and he escorts us to the very front car. On the
way we get glared at by all the yuppies that are on the
train so of course we make smartass remarks to them.
"What are you guys doing? Donít you know that you canget
killed doing stupid stunts like this?" says the guard.
"Actually you can get killed just by sitting in front
ofyour TV if your ceiling decides to fall on your head",
"Yeah, very funny. Seriously what are you guys
I say, "We wanted to go to New York but donít have any
money. So we figured we should just walk it."
"Well then why didnít you just walk over the GWB?"
"Everyone has to tell me your names and then weíll
get off in Newark, OK?" says the guard.
So he writes down all our names except mine since I
lie and say I was Tracy Marrow. Thatís Ice-Tís real
name. We then get to the Newark Amtrak Station and the
guard gets off and escorts us up to the Path trains and
asks a cop if it would be okay for us to hop after he
explains our situation. The cop goes for it, so we hop
and go over to New York City.
We go to Washington Square Park and Alex buys more
weed so we then walk up to Tompkins Square Park and
smoke there since there are generally less cops up
We smoke a few joints
and then get bored and decide to go back to Joizey. My
apartment is first from Journal Square and so I go home
since I am supposed to go to work in the morning. As
soon as I get in my bed I pass out.
My alarm clock blares at me at 6:30 in the morning
so I turn it off but then my TV comes on with Willard
Scott showing some century old prune to me. I again
wish I didnít set my TV to turn on, but I know that
without it I have no chance of ever getting up on time.
I go take a shower and come back to my room to get
dressed for my job at a pharmacy stocking shelves.
As I am putting on my socks, a report comes on about
the Mardi Gras in New Orleans coming up in February. I
think about how much fun that would be and then I think
about how much I hate my jobs. Iím about to have to
find another place anyway because my roommate and I
were arguing a lot, so I decide, "Fuck it." and pack up
my backpack which I got from getting cancer miles from
Marlboro. All I pack is a sleeping bag, a jacket, four
changes of clothes, three books, (a Stephen King, a
William Gibson and a Dave Barry) and about ten metal,
punk and rap cassettes and my radio.
I call the library
and my supervisor answers.
"Union City Library, how may I help you?" she says.
"Diane, itís Peace. Iím not going to make it in today."