It was, perhaps, the worst morning subway ride I’ve had in the nearly two year history of Trainjotting.

First, a bit of context. It was the day after I’d been holed up in a faceless, windowless midtown “ballroom” because the Big Boss saw fit to have us all off site for the day (for the record Big Bosses now use “off site” as a noun, as in, “we’re having an off site tomorrow, during which we’ll synergize and monetize.”) Which is fine, but it means double the work the next day.

So I was teeming with nervous energy this morning, eager to sort through my email avalanche and actually start crossing things off on my mental to-do list. After three off sites in the past six months, one thing I’ve learned is that they make you really psyched to actually go to work the next day, and simply do your job. Maybe that’s why Big Bosses do them.

I’d taken a later train out of Hummerville to have a little time with the kiddies, after shortchanging them to take that dreaded 7:52 yesterday and be on time for our big off site. The train got in a few minutes early, 9:25, and I chugged across GCT to the 6. I saw a subway pulling away just as I hit the platform at 9:30. No worries, I thought. There’s always one around the corner.

There wasn’t. And then there wasn’t. And then there still wasn’t.

Mind you, things were worse across the platform, where switch problems wreaked all sorts of havoc on the 4-5, which was skipping 14th Street. Riders were jammed in for several minutes before an announcement sent most all of them to the platform.

At 9:40, the 6 finally showed up. Our half of the platform was packed–people who’d been waiting, and ex-pats from the 4-5 who didn’t like the option of going express to Brooklyn Bridge.

I found a spot in the middle, away from the doors. We sat there for a moment. And another moment.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. This train is going express and stopping at 14th.”

I couldn’t muster the energy to move. I figured I’d jump off at 14th and take the uptown local one stop to 23rd. Perhaps not the smartest route, but it was one of those times you’ll do anything to get out of Grand Central.

Seemed like a good plan, until the train slowed down in the tunnel between 28th and 23rd, and stopped altogether just shy of 23rd, the graffitti on the tunnel wall switching from a blur to a static image.

We sat for several moments. The conductor got on the loudspeaker and actually referred to us as “customers,” like we were in Wal-Mart and it was to close in 10 minutes.

Five minutes later, at around 9:51, the packed train got moving again. We got out at 14th. I tried to hustle over to the uptown 6, but a mass of bodies going both ways clogged the freakishly narrow staircase (were people ever that skinny?).

I caught the first break of the day as another 6 turned up at 9:55. Five minutes later, I was at work on 26th and Park–a full half-hour since I’d arrived at the 6 platform.

I should’ve walked. I could’ve crawled.