Jamaica

I didn't have a car.

Um, there was a replacement bus, but I ended up taking an Uber to Jamaica Station, and then took the train in from there on the way in.

And then on the way back I was like, "I'll figure out the bus.

I've got time.

I was like, "I'm not gonna Uber from here.

[laughs] That's gonna be a lot of money." Um, I've, like, committed to the adventure of public transportation at this point.

So I get back on the train, and I go back to, I think, Jamaica Station again, get on the other train line, head out.

Uh, I don't even remember what the, the, uh, train line was or the stop that I needed, but I made a mistake there too because I just took the first train on the correct train line going the right direction, and it turned out to be an express train that did not stop-

The ride from Penn Station to Bay Shore took a little over an hour.

The train rattled through Jamaica, through the towns of Nassau County, and out into the darker stretches of Suffolk County, where the station platforms got smaller and the gaps between streetlights got longer.

When the train finally pulled into the Bay Shore Station sometime after one thirty in the morning, Eve stepped off onto the platform and started walking.

Her apartment on Fifth Avenue in Bay Shore was roughly a ten-minute walk from the station.

What do you think it is, the train?

I think that from right where we are right now, the fastest way for me to get to JFK would be to walk to P- uh, Penn Station, get on the train to Jamaica.

Yeah.

Get on the AirTrain.

The transfer at

fucking Jamaica Station.

Exactly.

Fucking bunch of Guidos.