Introduction to Thank God it’s Friday (T.G.I.F.): a Short Story

What is that smell? I hate summer in the city. After leaving White Plains, coming to the city is like riding a canoe through a lake of lava. My freshly starched shirt is soaked through with sweat, and it is only seven thirty. I would not mind sweating so much if I was not packed into a subway car filled with fifty other sweating people. I wish I could get used to the smell of vomit and garbage being blown up my nose on my daily commute to work. I feel pressure on my shoulder as a grown man starts to doze and absentmindedly rests his head on me. I marvel at his ability to sleep in this environment. Was he raised in a feces-filled oven? I stare at the monitor with focus as I wait for 54th street to be illuminated. I just want to get out of the subway and start my day. I am so close to the weekend. I have been waiting for this weekend for almost a month now. Scott, from finance, finally asked me to play a round with him at the Meadows Golf Club this weekend. Just to play there would be worth the almost three hour drive. Suddenly my dreams come true, and the subway stops at the 54th street stop. The rest of the inhabitants of my car and I make a mad rush up the stairs. I push people aside and maneuver around obstacles like I am making a punt return. How can people in the greatest city in the world act like this? Finally, I break the surface and breathe in a lungful of the foulest air on the planet. I wade my way through yet another crowd trying to reach the relative tranquility of my office. Finally, I open the doors to the bank only to see a dozen more bored faces waiting for the weekend.

“It’s 8:05,” says Lauryn, my receptionist, as I breeze past her into my office. Boy, she has a mouth on her, but it’s worth it to be able to see her walk around the office.  Sure is better than anything I see at home.

“I am well aware of the time, dear,” I respond, with just a hint of aloofness.

At last, inside the cool confines of my office, I take off my jacket and mentally prepare myself for the deluge of emails that have built up since I got on the train this morning.

A. Delafield Donatelli ‘15