ANOTHER ATTEMPT AT CATASTROPHE

I left my friend's car tonight, a friend that would have driven me home had I asked (let me just note that) and walked 15 feet or so to the subway entrance to get on the PATH train from 14th st to Jersey City. Underground I discovered that the train was inaccessible from that spot, made clear by a huge blue sign telling me to cross the street and try again. 

On the other side the subway showed no hint of its promise. I, drunk and confused, looked around for a second, only to notice a man in a blue button down shirt and slacks asking someone who appeared to be an official of some sort where the PATH was at, since he needed to get to Hoboken. The uniformed man told Blue Shirt Man that he had to go to the subway on 13th st. I, needing the same train, followed BSM down to the next station. We acknowledged each other on the way, and our common goal: to get home and sleep. 

As we approached the next stairway, BSM noted that there was no indication that the PATH stopped here either, and announced he was taking a cab home, adding "I'm too wasted to figure this out", and threw his arm up in the air and toward the street sloppily. 

I turned away and descended into muggy mystery. I didn't think my desired train departed from here either, but I could take one from here to there and from there to the JC train station, and from there a $5 cab home. A long ride yes, but in total, one that should only cost around $8 total. Much to my surprise however, this subway station was taped off like a crime scene and I had no choice but to turn around and find a new plan. 

At the top of the steps I noticed that BSM had just finally managed to slump himself  into his cab. He noticed me and gestured clumsily for me to join him, a joint trip to Jersey. 

I thought several things. 

Is this safe?

Is this guy my future husband?

Am I getting a free ride home? Sweet!

I went with the third thought and jumped in. He told the driver Jersey Heights (where?) , but to take me where I wanted first. Unfortunately, once in the heart of Jersey darkness, the cab driver was lost, my companion (who's name I never got) was half-passed out, and I had to help him find his intersection with the GPS on my iPhone.  BSM payed his bill, a whopping $54, which he was none too happy about, grabbed his Gatorade, and turned to me with a meaningful look and slurred "Don't let him charge you to take you home." Uh okay. 

I did hold my own in the fare debate, I'm proud to say. The driver refused to go by the meter (said something about it being illegal?) and requested $40 to take me home. I countered that BSM has already payed to get to New Jersey, so I was only paying to get from wherever the hell I was to my destination, no tolls. I said I'd give him $20 and we settled (begrudgingly on my part) on $25.

15 minutes later, after a series of unnecessary turns, we pulled up in front of my house and I was all set to pay up. The driver then told me that it was a lot farther than he'd thought, so he had to charge me $35. And then, THEN, lo and behold, my bank card declined. I know for a fact my account isn't empty. I ran the card twice more for good measure, and then still drunk and starting to get upset, asked if he could drive me to an ATM. He kindly did, which is when I found out that the temporary bank card (still waiting for my real one in the mail) had expired at midnight like some Cinderella bullshit, and I was stuck alone with no cash and nothing to tell the driver. 

In the end I finally wrote him a fucking CHECK for $35. Temporary checks also, thank you very much. As in: no name, address, phone number or anything on the check. Dude was understandably a little suspicious. But what could either of us do at that point? 

By then we were a couple blocks away, but my street is a one way in the wrong direction, so I got out and walked the rest of the way. 

I can't wait to live in the city. This commute blows.