So, I was on this commuter train, going to my place of work. I had my notebook and some other stuff in my backpack. I HAD the backpack with me most of the way, and put it on the compartment above me only about three frickin' minutes from my stop.
I had Suicidal Tendencies blasting from my headset. Now, I know that hot piece of music isn't any way responsible for the thing about to come down--'cuz you know, it's the goddamn SUICIDAL TENDENCIES is what this is--but, hey, it makes this note somewhat longer, so there you go.
Anyway, the train arrived at this big-ass station, and it was my stop, though I don't usually get off here: This train's final stop is not the one where MY commuter train ends its journey at, but the train had been the one ready to leave and I hadn't had time to wait for the commuter train I'd have prefered to take.
Well, so I got off the train and walked like a boss to north exit of the station because that's where I take the public minivan to my office. Upon reaching the spot where I'd wait for my ride, I realized that I LEFT my fricking backpack on the BLASTED train! So, I ran, like an ass, back to the station, rushed to the Station Master's office, and, while trying to catch my breath, told the people there that I was an ass, with Suicidal Tendencies blasting. A few phone calls later, the good people at the office told me the backpack was found and was secured and that I should just hang in there and chill and wait for the commuter train to return to the station, which should not be not more than 40 minutes (The train has only two more stops before reaching the last station and commutes back, really).
So, here I am, sitting on a bench, writing this. With Suicidal Tendencies blasting.
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