A Day In North Jersey

Stepping into Penn Station after a 2-month hiatus was like stepping into the stupid future. After making my way around the ‘New Jersey Commuter’ wing of the station, a pointless array of marble levels and elevators actively preventing me from reaching my train (no stairs to the platforms = one way movement very, very slowly), I found all the (relatively) small metal ticket machines bearing the NJ Transit logo at the top had been replaced by hulking blue monstrosities with an even more irksome ticket-purchasing interface.

The old machines, looking like ticket machines…

…and the new ones, looking like plastic kids’ toys. Also fun: finding out ticket fares had been hiked twice since last I traveled. Sure, I enjoy riding the double-decker trains as much as anyone and appreciate their clever use of existing space, but two hikes in that short a space seemed gratuitous.

Life is short.

So is your cash.
You said it, vandalized casino ad.

Driving up to North Jersey it was sad to see how many older businesses closed, including long-running garden center Fountains of Wayne (yes, the one the band named themselves after). Fortunately some businesses were booming:
Guitars, Drums

Entenmann's Outlet
Ah, Entenmann’s Outlet. Filling our childhood with lopsided Devil’s Cake and oblong donuts.

Corrado’s, a local grocery chain, had also expanded wildly. No longer just a food emporium, they’d grown to include several stores, a bakery and in-house fish market, and across the street, a business college. Their selection of produce was vast and the aisles were crowded with carts and families.
Chefs chasing you with plates of stuff.
Chefs menacing you with plates of stuff was a popular design theme.

You will buy the rice.
As was having the mascot stare you down.

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