This morning on my delightful commute to work, I sliced open my finger trying to close my umbrella. Much to my dismay, my finger started gushing blood all over the place. I frantically searched in my purse for a little pack of Kleenex to contain the mess, but I couldn't even find a used tissue to wipe my troubles away.
When I transferred to the L from the G at Lorimer St., I went to that Pakistani guy who has a little snack stand set up in the corner of the station.
"Can I please have a napkin? I'm bleeding profusely," I said to the guy, shaking my gory finger in his face to show him.
"You can't have a napkin, but you can buy a pack of Kleenex for a dollar." He said smugly.
FUCK that guy! I was a poor girl in need of help, and was not willing to give in to his extreme greediness. I decided to bust out some MacGyver style skills and use some old receipts as bandages. Like George Castanza, my wallet is stuffed to the brim with old receipts.
When I transferred to the L from the G at Lorimer St., I went to that Pakistani guy who has a little snack stand set up in the corner of the station.
"Can I please have a napkin? I'm bleeding profusely," I said to the guy, shaking my gory finger in his face to show him.
"You can't have a napkin, but you can buy a pack of Kleenex for a dollar." He said smugly.
FUCK that guy! I was a poor girl in need of help, and was not willing to give in to his extreme greediness. I decided to bust out some MacGyver style skills and use some old receipts as bandages. Like George Castanza, my wallet is stuffed to the brim with old receipts.
Gross right? I bled through three before getting to work. I just hope if I get shot or stabbed in the subway, it's not at the Lorimer St. stop because I'm sure not getting any help from that snack shop clown.
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