Journal Square on a Friday Night

I have a routine.  Five nights a week, I go to Secaucus and work at UPS.  I've  been doing this for about a month and a half now, and believe it or not, I've never seen Secaucus in the daylight.  I've never seen the building I work in in the light.  Anyway, the bus to go home comes every night at 4:15 am.  Including all the travel time and waiting, I usually walk in the door at 5 am on the dot.  Every night, it's the same thing.  Get on the bus in Secaucus.  Ride about 20-25 long minutes back to Journal Square.  Wait for the PATH train to take me one stop to Grove Street.  Walk from Grove home.   In the door and in bed by 5.

It seems that each Friday, my routine is changed slightly.  Well, my routine  isn't changed, I would say, enhanced.  Three weeks ago was Halloween.  Since the bars in The City close at 4 am, the revelers were just getting to Journal Square as I was on my way home.  It was almost like rush hour, with the number of people moving thru the station.  Costumes of every kind.  Drunk people everywhere.  One trio of partiers was sitting on the steps to the train platform.  I couldn't thru and another person coming the other way couldn't either.  I was waiting to see what happened, and the guy coming the other way told them to do whatever they want, but to get the F--- out of the way.  I applauded his bluntness and passed when they moved.  That same trio was on my train later, and laughing hysterically at something.  One of the guys ended up on the floor laughing so hard.  Oh, for the days when you just don't care what kind of fool you were being.

Another Friday night, I stepped on the train to wait for the ride home and noticed the floor was filthy.  Soda spilled everywhere.  Trash littered the train.  Next, over the loudspeaker, we were notified that this train was out of service.  I asked the conductor if the other track would take me where I needed to go.  He said the track I was on would take me there in a few minutes but that "they" had pushed a window out of that train.  

Tonight, as I was coming home, the station was filled with people again, and I missed the train by about six seconds.  I went down to the platform to wait for the next train and asked a lady if she had been waiting long.  She said no and rolled her eyes, explaining that she was trying to get to World Trade, but had gone the wrong way.  She was on the train I had missed.  I turned around and saw a guy leaning on a wall, and just when I looked at him, he spewed vomit.  I went  over and looked closer (you can't turn away from such a public humiliation) and saw it on the platform and on his bag.  Serves him right, I guess.  He, like most animals, didn't want to stand in his own vomit, so he moved to another spot down the platform and threw up again.  That was pleasant, as I'm sure you can imagine.

Eventually, the train did come, and I got on it.  The bell rang and someone asked if this train was going to Newark.  No, I answered, it's going to World Trade.  The conductor announced it.  One guy jumped up and held the door open and asked for his bag that he had left on the seat.  He then slid thru the doors and we left the station.  Two other people were upset that they had gotten on the wrong train and quizzed me about how to get to Newark.  I explained they should get off at the next station and wait for the train marked Newark.  The guy was getting upset and said "No way, this is so f---ed up."  He glared and me and I told him that it wasn't my fault he got on the wrong train.  The conductor did say where this train was going.  

I did get home, and everything is good.  I'm kind of curious to find out what happens next Friday night.  Rest assured, if it's anything this much fun, I'll let you know.