The Express Train hates me

That thing that I hate so much happened again today. And it happened really bad.

I'm standing there waiting for the local train, and the Express Train went by, like, not once, not twice... not even three times, but like, four, FOUR times. Actually, I'm fibbing-- it went by five times, but by that time I was blinded with blood rage, filing a law suit in my head against them, the them that laughs at my plight as they pull the levers on all subways so that I am late to work, late to date, late to eat and late to be late for everything one can be late for. I know they think it is a funny matter, this tripping me up, but I'd like to let them know something: with each passing express train a new gray hair sprouts underneath my dyed mop. And THAT is a travesty.