My coworker and I go on a site visit for a film shoot at a remote lighthouse. Two curators from work are with us, both women. Afterward, we all walk through an ornate campus at a religious (Jesuit?) college with mosaic floors to get to the entrance of the subway. The two curators leave us because they both take rideshares home—one takes Uber and the other takes Lyft. My coworker and I descend a giant escalator to the train station deep, deep underground (feels like an abandoned airport). The line for the train contains hundreds of people, all bundled and packed together. I am afraid to be near so many people so I turn away to walk home while my coworker takes the train. A conductor tells me that if I can finish an obstacle course I can get on a less crowded train car, so I complete the obstacle course and win but it’s horrible and there are mothers trying to complete the course while holding their children so they can get them on the safer train car. My coworker and I meet at another train station where we both have to transfer and we go to a fancy restaurant in the station to have dinner. On the way to our table, we pass four male celebrity chefs all eating together. My coworker knows them so he stops to chat while I hang back. After, I ask him “was that Bobby Flay?” and he says “no.”




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