The escalator to the top grinds away. Standing to the right, you hold the railing and the belt moves faster than your feet. Adjust, so that you don't grab the ass of the person leaning to the side ahead of you. You're halfway there. Reach into your back pocket to get your fare card and hit your funny bone. Ow. Turn to see someone dragging up an extra large Samsonite, knuckles white with a straining grip. At the top, a blowing fan and a gaggle of station managers. The turnstile opens and your day begins.