Mordechai's morning commute

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Blast! Mordechai Krustovski ran out his front door. He was running late for work. He usually was. He ran down the street and onto the subway for his 20-minute ride from his apartment in Brooklyn to his office in Manhattan. The F train was packed. It usually was.

Mordechai pulled out his new mobile phone, the Samsung Q7000. A sleek new model, it utilised the latest 3G technology which had been deployed throughout the Big Apple, even down in the subway tunnels. He did a quick check of his email. A bunch of spam mostly, though his girlfriend Carla had sent one saying she'd rather they stay in and watch the new episode of "Desperate Housewives" that she was "tivoing". Mordechai was down with that. Carla had just bought a great big HDTV. It was totally deck. Plus, he figured a couple of glasses of wine, a little sweet talk, and Mordechai might be a happier man for the commute the next morning.

Mordechai closed his email and pulled up the Times. It was so much easier to just read the paper on your phone rather than sprawling out and hitting all the other people in the crowded subway car. Mets lost again. Worthless losers. He'd be hearing it from the Yankees fans all morning. He read a few other stories. The War in Iraq was going badly. Another company was opening a new office in Bangalore. Usual stuff, must be a slow news day.

The doors opened at Rockefeller Center and Mordechi stepped off. He had a long day ahead of him. Better hurry, or there would be hell to pay.

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