Before heading down, Dana and I decided to make some homemade stickers (Priority Mail Labels are free) to post up around town. Dana even remade some of the images we'd
As the concert drew near, we chowed down at Foodswings (the wet dream of any fast-food deprived vegan), and I was thrilled to see that though ownership had changed hands, the bathroom was still graffiti-friendly, so I added my two-cents in. The concert itself was mind-blowing and possibly spiritual (they do a cover of the Black Flag song, "Spray Paint (The Walls)" ). but it ended much later in the evening than we had intended to leave. The lines for the merch table were unbelieveable, and add in autographs, and some time spent subtly liberating posters from the walls, and we found ourselves running, hysterical, to the subway. On the way, were were snapping shots of some great art and I was shouting about how sad it was that the night had to end so soon.
As we squeezed onto the L, I had a classic OCD moment of doubt. I yelled to Dana, "Get off! It's the wrong train!," and she just managed to pull herself through the closing doors as I realized I was freaking out for no reason. Still, the great thing about NYC is that there are trains running all the time and another would be there soon, we had fifty minutes to get to Grand Central anyway, and only four stops to traverse. Twenty minutes later the next L arrived. It took twenty minutes between each stop. People were screaming, "what the hell is wrong with this fucking train!?" Several women were crying. I was crying too, because I was crazy, and now we were stuck in the city. We arrived at Grand Central twenty mintues after we were supposed to. After the last train out of the city leaves, the terminal is barricaded off. So much for sleeping in the plastic arm chairs in Dining Concourse.
