I will keep posting on Facebook

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Kevin McHarvey

Hoboken Bureau Chief

You’ve heard about the 180 facebook comments/posts cap. That seems to be a number that will allow me to keep posting for the foreseeable future. Regardless of the numbers, I hope everyone knows: I have always wanted to post. I have always wanted to comment every single chance I get.

Especially in regards to the Mets’ push for their first postseason appearance since 2006.

Right now, the Mets are hunkered down in a fight to make the postseason. All of their efforts are focused on that task. As a fan, I understand there’s still a lot of baseball left to play. The chances that the Mets blow their shot at the postseason are very high. This is an incredibly nerve-wracking time to be a Mets fan, as they have let me down my entire life.

As a fan of the Mets, when your brother, who recently became a doctor — not the medical kind, the “Excuse me, that’s Dr. Jim McGrath” kind — explains to you that there’s a very good chance this season will end in heartbreak, that can be alarming. You listen. I love to watch the Mets and love when they win even more. I would not give up the Mets winning for anything. OK, I would maybe give it up if it meant the Jets winning. Or the Rangers. Or me winning the lotto. Either way, if the Mets somehow make the postseason, I will be watching. And posting about it on Facebook.

I understand the risks. I am also fully aware that this could all end with David Wright taking a called strike three. Actually, that’s probably the likely scenario. Although maybe Bartolo Colon picks up the win in Game 7 of the World Series. That’d be pretty chill.

Once — please God, Once — the Mets are there, I will be there … commenting.

— Kevin McHarvey

Hoboken Bureau Chief

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I will keep posting on Facebook

The Reservoir: Part 2 (of more than two parts)

I often start stories, but don’t finish them. LIKE A TRUE SLACKER. Here is (Part 2 of) one of them. Will I finish it, will I not? Who knows?

This was done during my bus trip home to Boston on Tuesday, a trip that included me nodding off, waking up with a start, farting as a result of waking up with a start, then immediately pretending to fall back asleep in case anyone noticed the smell (they noticed). I am all class.

Part 1

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Kevin and Jimmy ran for 30 seconds before Jim had to stop.

“Seriously?” Kevin said.

“I said running more than a block was pushing it. I lasted a half-block. That’s still in the margin of error!”

“Fine,” Kevin said. “Just keep walking.”

They walked another block without seeing anyone, then started to approach Washington Street, which was usually busy at this time of day.

“If anyone’s out,” Kevin said, “they’ll be o …”

Jim pushed Kevin into a bush in front of an apartment building and dove into the bush after him.

“Why was that necessary?” Kevin whispered.

“Shhhh,” Jim replied. “I think I saw someone turn the corner.”

They both peered through the bush. An older man wearing jeans, a light coat and an Atlanta Braves hat was slowly walking in their direction on the sidewalk up the block.

“Do you think he saw us?” Kevin said.

“Probably not.”

The man stopped.

“I saw you two,” he said. “Jumping in a bush the second you see an elderly black man. For shame.”

Kevin and Jim froze.

“I said I saw you two,” the man said. “Stop being weirdos.”

Kevin stepped out from the bush.

“We see you, too.”

“Of course you see me. I’m standing right in front of you. I told you to stop being weirdos”

“Why are you out during the lockdown?” Kevin said. He looked back at Jim, who still hadn’t moved.

“I needed milk,” the man said. He took off his hat and scratched his head.

“No one’s open,” Kevin said,

“People are open.”

“Who?”

“People are always open. What are you two doing, anyway?”

Jim jumped out.

“We’re going to the reservoir.”

Kevin looked at Jim and shook his head.

“Ahhh,” the man said. “Well then, I must be going.”

The man took a few steps before stopping again.

“Don’t worry — I won’t tell them I saw you.”

“Tell who?” Kevin and Jim said in unison.

“Tee hee hee.”

The man sprinted away.

“Pretty speedy for an old dude,” Jim said. “Should we chase after him?”

“He’s already reached the half-block point,” Kevin said. “Already out of your range.”

“Hate, hate, hate.”

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

The Reservoir: Part 2 (of more than two parts)