I was on my way to work this morning, fairly brimming with ideas. My fingers ready to dance over the keyboard, spinning out protean quantities of art in the service of commerce.
Another Wednesday in Fun City.
As I walked down the steps to the subway, I almost immediately noticed something was amiss. The platform was bursting to the seams with Somali pirates. They were everywhere, belts of bullets criss-crossing their barrel-chests, parrots fluttering upon their shoulders, hooks glistening in the fluorescence and the unmistakable sound of peglegs on concrete.
Before I could wheel around and look for the M-15 bus, I was taken hostage. Bound and gagged (and not in a good way)and on my way to New Lots Avenue out in Brooklyn.
Fortunately after about an hour I was rescued by a troop of transit cops and I was back on my way to work. No harm done.
Yep, another day, another hostage situation.
Same thing happened to me. Except the Metro cops were on union break so I'm still locked in the public bathroom.
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