A Life in Quarters: Tales of an Actual Crisis

One of the essential problems of the Quarter Life Crisis is that people think life is not exciting enough:

Oh my god. I’m sitting here using my brother’s ancient ibook eating frozen vegetables for dinner at 10 oclock at night listening to the TV, but not watching it. In all likelihood, I’ll be doing the same thing next year..and the year after…and the year after.

However, sometimes, it’s good when your life is not exciting. &#^#@!$ you say increduously. I know. It sounds crazy. But I can explain.

This morning I was at the gym and “(I’m gonna be a) Supermodel” from the Clueless Soundtrack came on my iPod. (That’s why they call it “random,” ok?) Anyway, it suddenly occurred to me: I am never going to be model. And I was thrilled.

You see, because I’m tall, people have sometimes asked, “Have you ever modeled?” on the rare occasions when they can stop themselves from blurting out, “Mary, Mother of God, you’re TALL!” Then I have to say, “No I couldn’t,” and list reasons why.

However, when I first graduated from college, in a state of not-yet-employed desperation, I thought: Maybe I should try to model. I could get an apartment. And then I’d have no money to buy food. And if I had no money to buy food, I wouldn’t eat. And if I didn’t eat, then I could be a model!!!

Well, take it from me: It’s way better to be writing the Fashion Guide than trying to worm your way into it. So although many lament that the older you get, the more possibilities you have to let go of, I think sometimes, abandoning possibilities can be as invigorating as exploring them.

Plus, who needs modeling when I can cause a scene and have strangers judge me for crass behavior and loose moral anyway?

You see, the Q train stopped tonight for about 20 minutes before arriving at DeKalb due to an “injury” at 7th Avenue. When we finally got to DeKalb, they announced that the train was being re-routed. I ran off and up the stairs, where I encountered an MTA official.

“How long do you think the person will be injured for?” I asked (not thinking at all about the fact that I was ending my sentence with a preposition.)

“Well,” he said. “The person is dead. So, figure, they have to collect all the body parts.”
A blond woman standing near me quipped, “That should take a while.”
“What happened!?”I blurted out. “Did they jump?”
“I don’t know. They jump, or they fall. Or, they’re leaning over the tracks; ‘where’s my train? Is it coming? Where’s my train?’ Boom. There’s their train.”
Meanwhile, a B train had pulled up. I ran down and boarded. I stood in the middle of the car and asked, “Has this train been re-routed?”
“No, I don’t think,” etc. Many replied. One girl spoke up. “We’re just holding. There’s an injury or something. But it’s going to 7th avenue.”
“Well! I don’t think so,” I informed her. “Somebody died at 7th avenue. It’s going to take a while to clean up the body parts.”
“What?!! I mean, WHAT!? Did you actually just say that?” The girl was turning red. She was furious. “You actually just stood there and said, ‘They have to clean up body parts?'”
“Really,” grumbled a man behind me. “You were so nonchalant. How can you be like that?”
“You don’t just get on a train and say that,” the woman next to him insisted.
“How can you say that…” The girl was still red, shaking her head. “I mean, we should be stopping to say a prayer.”
Yet another man laughed bitterly. “Some guy dies, and wreck our day, huh? Is that it?”
Thankfully, before the angry mob could pounce, the conductor announced that the B train would also be re-routed. And, because this is New York, that news caused significantly more outrage than mine. I was able to scoot off the train unharmed.

Any sticklers for detail out there will be glad to know that the B41 bus from Livingston got me safely home.

Any sticklers for tact can talk to my roommate. She says I was just taking social cues from the MTA.

Anybody still stuck on a quarter-life crisis should contemplate, as suggested by the title of this post, if it was your body in quarters instead. Yes, I am that morbid. I did just say that. But I think I have a point.

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