Tick, Tock, and You Don't Stop
Since starting a job in Hoboken, I’ve come to realize that Jersey people party harder than any others. It shames me to say this, but it’s true. (Must be how they cope with their depression about not living in NYC.)For instance, this morning, juggling cheap coffee, the latest Entertainment Weekly, and an umbrella (personal size, not giant-golf-player size), an … er… endowed girl gets on the PATH wearing sunglasses and with her Calvin Klein shirt buttoned up … er… wrong. She nuzzled her streaked-makeup-face close to her super grande Starbucks coffee and sunk low into her seat. Clearly this belle of the ball had been out all night. And this was not the first of her ilk I have seen. These zombies doing the Ride of Shame are a regular occurrence. I knew Jersey was some sort of frat-boy/sorority-girl way station to adulthood, but these people make Eddie Furlong look like someone you’d bring home to mom.