Never before have the words "change at Jamaica" been so musical to my ears.
The Long Island Railroad is a mixed-blessing. On one hand, it serves as a quick and convenient mode of transportation for New York City outings eliminating the hassle of having to take your car and limiting your alcohol intake as a result. On the flip side, there are usually drunker, louder people coming home with you. I'm sure there's a graph somewhere outlining the "Post-Midnight Budweiser Theorum" that states for every quiet drunk who's only interested in passing out on the ride home, there's an oppositely obnoxious guy cracking the same bad joke loudly so that some commuter 30 rows down can pay him undeserved attention.
