thirty-two

Today I was threatened by what I am assuming was an eleven year old. I was running to catch the subway and threw my hands between the doors. I know this wasn't the brightest idea, but my overwhelming fear of being late for my crummy retail job took control. While my hands were wedged between the doors and struggling to push them open I heard some yelling behind me. I didn't pay too much attention to it because people are always yelling for completely unnecessary reasons in NY. I managed to wedge the doors open (thank you Trader Joe's for beefing me up) and squeeze into the car. I grabbed a seat and looked up to see this eleven year old running up to the doors. He hit his hand against the window and shot me an angry look. I tried to apologize via body language for not understanding/hearing his calls to hold the door. He raised his hand, pointing his index finger and middle finger at his eyes and then turns his hand and points his fingers at me. As soon as this happened I burst out laughing. I better watch my back because there is an angry eleven year old who frequents the Franklin Avenue 4/5 stop, and he's watching me.