Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the city
The shop-windows sparkled with gimcracks so pretty
In the Union Square station I ran from the Q
On my way to Grand Central to visit TQ
My scheduled departure was 5:36
I was rushing to transfer, not pausing for pix.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a hundred St. Nicholases, sodden with beer!
OK, enough bad poetry. That's basically what happened, though. I wasn't actually late, but I was at the point where I did not have all sorts of time to futz around. However, when you are running to catch the Lexington Avenue Express, and you're not actually late, and suddenly the stairs from the platform begin spewing hundreds of drunken Santas (santi?), with the odd reindeer, elf, Elve-ira Mistress of the Toyshops, and angel mixed in, and you happen to have a digital camera on your person, you simply owe to yourself to at least take a FEW pictures.
Otherwise people accuse you of hitting the eggnog too hard, y'know?
Thank goodness I had read about the phenomenon last year on NewYorkOlogy.
Sometimes, this ridiculous city has it's points.
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