Last night, as the snow came down in buckets, a friend commented on how perfect it would be to start a snowball fight against the masses huddled on the opposite L train platform. As we all waited for the delayed trains and came more and more to resemble snowmen, it seemed like a great idea. Perfect distance, a perfect no-man’s land — the electrified rails — in between the opposing armies, and in fact a perfect reason: people on the east platform were, in part, headed to the south side on the orange line. People on the west were headed to the north side on the brown. How better for Cubs fans to blow off some post-World Series steam? (Poor purple line commuters. They were going north too but were unfortunately clumped in with the orange liners. Collateral damage, I guess.) Only one problem. The snow was way too dry. You couldn’t form a snowball at all.
Pity. That would have been fun. At least until someone fell into the tracks.