Homey We Made It

We arrive at our hotel about 3 p.m. I quiz the hotel staff about catching the train to and from New York. I bump into Road Dawg, who’s looking for ice, and ask when the bus will head to the city. She doesn’t know.

I return to the room. Road Dawg sends me a text at 4:17 p.m.: “Bus leaving at 4:15 p.m.”

I laugh. I haven’t showered, and there’s a Maker’s on the rocks calling my name. Road Dawg is on the bus. I text L-Boogie and tell her my girl and I are taking the train into the city.
L-Boogie, Cee-lo, my girl and I catch the 4:55 p.m. train to New York.

Road Dawg, who is on the bus, sends me a text: “We still riding.” It’s 5:42 p.m.

Our train announcer announces our arrival at Penn Station.
We get off the train. My spidey senses tingle. I look at the signs, and I see one for Newark airport. I don’t think we’re at the right Penn Station. We head downstairs and ask a police officer. He laughs. It's a common mistake. We’re at Newark Penn Station, not New York Penn Station.

The next train to New York is at 6:15 p.m.

It’s 5:45 p.m. We grab sandwiches and sit in a bar to kill time.

Road Dawg sends me a text at 5:59 p.m.

“Still riding.”