F The V

This advisory appeared like a glowing beacon on the 14th St. platform in Manhattan Friday night: The V train will be running less frequently! Hooray!

Among the select few things commuting Park Slopers can agree on: The V train carries with it a strange waft of piss and KFC, and only barrels into the station when you need an F train most. Get out of work late and need to make it to doggy day care before they board the pooch? A V train arrives. Got shitfaced with coworkers and realized you promised the better half you’d be home—and sober—by 9? Two empty V trains arrive in succession. Then the garbage train.

OK, so this is only for a short time (until Oct. 2), and only during rush hour, but strangely it feels as happy as finding out that FIDO will be spiking the coffee on Saturday morning or that Williamsburg hipsters are all sterile (tight pants will do that).

Fewer V trains is cause for celebration…or at least one more beer after work this week.

Be nice to Eric, and buy his book First Big Crush: The Down and Dirty on Making Great Wine Down Under. You know you wanna.