Down the Fast Lane

Walking down two whole flights of damp subway stairs sounded like a scam. Then I spotted a discarded yellow MetroCard sitting on a turnstile ledge. People waste money, but I never waste an opportunity. I snatched the card, dropped it onto the wide, polished stainless-steel divider between the staircases, and wedged my sharp heels right into the plastic. One shove and I went shooting straight down the slick metal slope, zooming past every slow-moving umbrella on the steps. I screeched to a halt at the bottom landing without wearing down my soles one bit. If the city installs giant metal slides, they shouldn't complain when I use them.