It's possible there are worse places in NYC than Penn Station during the evening rush hour on the day before Thanksgiving. The NYPD tow pound lot in Flushing? The men's room at The Abbey on any given Saturday night? The Great Pit of Carkoon, the nesting place of the all powerful Sarlacc, where, in his belly, commuters find a new definition of pain and suffering as they are slowly digested over a thousand years? Hmmm... I don't know, Penn Station is pretty heavy right now.

It's unclear if a freight train derailment blocking Amtrak tracks in Pennsylvania is contributing to the pandemonium, or if this is just the usual pre-Thanksgiving madness, but if you're reading this on your phone as you claw your way out of town through the tight, spiky lower intestine that is Penn Station, know that we are praying for you. The good news is that you can resume drinking heavily once you finally get on the train.

For about another hour, at least.

Oh well, maybe this is an opportunity to reflect on how you don't need mind-numbing intoxicants just to cope with life's banal abrasiveness. The simple act of respiration is a constant miracle, isn't it? ISN'T IT?!

Aw, doesn't this traveling turkey look tasty? It's sweet Amtrak lets her take a snuff selfie before she's executed.

The good news is whatever train you're fighting to get on isn't bringing you to a slaughterhouse... just your family.

Happy Thanksgiving!