How I REALLY Injured Myself After The Arcade Fire Show

The Arcade Fire show had ended, and rather than fight the hipster wave as it roared towards Williamsburg, I stopped for a drink. Or three. Ample time to let the swell abate as I traveled back through the underground railroad from Mount Washington Heights to deepest, darkest Brooklyn.

The first stretch was uneventful. Placid even. I had no idea what I was getting into.

The A train squealed to a stop in the bowels of the Port Authority, dingy and dank. I maneuvered my way around the crowd, heading towards the passage to make my connection.

About halfway through, the lights flashed, and it grew dark. Pitch dark. I could hear water running and the air grew cool. I stopped in my tracks.

Whoosh! Suddenly, torches lit along the walls, no longer the sooty white tiles of Gotham's underground, but slate. The ground was slick. Uneven. WTF?

"I'll get you this time," came a gravely voice from behind.

I turned to see a tall figure, with a weird, spiked hat and evil eyes gleaming from above a ninja mask.

"Oh shit," I mumbled, stepping aside as he advanced. I slid on the slick stone floor, squealing as my ankle gave out. But I was too stupefied to wallow. "Is that… Shredder?"

He glared my way, but just as he was about to step forward, a voice cut through the black.

"Not so fast, Shredder!"

Could it be?

Green arms and legs whirled past me, and there they were. Poised to do battle in what had just a moment ago been the Port Authority. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

"Michaelangelo! Save me!" I shouted in my best damsel-in-distress voice.

"No problem lady! Cowabunga dudes!" and the turtles were off!

Leonardo's ninjaken whirled through the air, hitting Shredder squarely on the head. Donatello leaped on his bo staff. Whacking Shredder in the back of the knees. The giant went down. I had really thought there'd be more of a "battle", but they made quick of it and Leonardo grabbed my arm.

"This way!"

He lead me down a dark passageway I'd never seen before in the Port Authority, taking care to move quickly while still respecting my slight limp.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Brooklyn, silly."

"Uh, okay…" I decided it was best to just go along with things at this point. This was, after all, New York. Things happened.

We came to a roller coaster cart on a rusty old track.

"This is the secret ride to the Slope. You totally bypass all of Chinatown and Ft. Greene. It's awesome," he said, pulling back the safety bar. "Hop in!"

"Can't I at least buy you a slice?" I said, knowing the turtle's fondness for pizza. "You most certainly saved me from ultimate doom!"

"It's cool," he said, locking the bar across my lap. "Just close your eyes. Sometimes it's dusty in the tunnels." He pushed a button, and the car lurched ahead, taking a steep dive like Space Mountain.

I squeezed my eyes tight. "Aaaahhhhhhhhh!" went the inside voice. My stomach flew around inside my body, I re-tasted my lunch.


With a jolt, I opened my eyes.

In front of me was a map of the New York City Subway. On the grimy orange bench sat a lady in a jean jacket, reading US Weekly. A bum was on the other side of the door.

"Is this the Q Train?" I asked her, trying not to sound drunk.

"Um, yeah. Seventh Avenue," said jean jacket, looking at me like I'd just beamed down from the mother ship.

Word. My stop.

"What a crazy ass dream," I thought, standing.

I stepped toward the door and gasped at the sharp pain in my ankle as I put pressure on my foot. Humph.


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