No Offence...

So, remember how a short while ago I was going on about how Monday shouldn't have all the glory for being the worst day of the week? Well, Monday decided to go all out and try to prove me wrong. I woke up on Monday morning and as I headed out to the subway, there were no indications that this day would be any different from any other work day. I headed down the stairs and took my place on the platform and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

My subway stop is a local stop and, just to make things worse than they already were, about 5 express trains zipped by as we stood on our local track and waited. I had moments when I wondered if there had been an accident or a sick passenger. I wondered if there would be an announcement over the loudspeaker telling us that train service had been suddenly suspended. I wondered how many more people could possibly fit on the crowded platform. And still no train.

Finally.

The train came and I squished onto it - I only had to go one stop before I transferred to the express train. There was an express train waiting and I jumped on. We trundled across the bridge and made two stops. Then, the intercom system crackled to life. The train was being put out of service and we would have to transfer to the train waiting across the platform. The only problem was that the train waiting was full. Beyond full. People were packed in so tightly they made sardines look spaced out. There was no way I was getting on that train. The doors creaked shut and the train left.

And we waited.

And waited.

A train arrived on the express track and we rushed to get on it. No luck. It too went out of service. Now two loads of passengers were waiting on the next train.

And waiting.

A train trundled in on the local track and it was kinda full. But I had had enough. Using my bag as a shield, I got onto that train and headed off. I only had a couple of stops before I had to transfer again onto yet another train. It was waiting on the platform and I even found a seat. But then the train did not move. The intercom crackled to life again.

This time it was door trouble on a train a few stops down and we had to sit and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

I was surprised when the doors finally closed and the train started moving. I was maybe going to get to work before lunchtime! Hallelujah!

So, okay, yes, Monday, I am sorry if you felt slighted by my moves to bring Sunday into your realm. You have shown me who is boss. I am waving the white flag.

Not Before My Coffee Please

A few months ago, I was heading into work, as I tend to do most Tuesday mornings. I had ridden the train without incident (probably because I slept almost all the way) and I was now walking up the stairs that run from the subway platform to maze of corridors that runs under the Rockefeller Centre. As I looked up, in a haze of non-caffeinated sleepiness, I saw something unexpected. A butt crack and a heck of a lot of it. Had I been standing behind someone bending down to pick up something, I would not have been surprised - sometimes when bending over, clothes do not act as they should. But, this extensive butt crack belonged to an erect body that was casually walking up stairs. This was no inadvertent plumber's crack. This was more like - I bought a pair of jeans that only comes halfway up my hips because I want the world to share the love of my body.

As I walked behind this woman, who was not even wearing the long tops that women wear (and spend the day pulling down) when they know that they are wearing pants that tend to fall down and expose their behind, I wondered what, if anything, I should do. I was torn - should I say something or did her cavalier attitude mean that this is how she wanted to look? If no one else was reacting, did this mean that I had missed yet another fashion trend? Was this like a skirt stuck in underwear or more like someone trying to be the next Lady Gaga?

Gah! I couldn't! (she got further away from me) How was I supposed to think before 9am? (I would have to yell or run to get her attention) Without any caffeine? (now she had disappeared into the crowd) Doesn't the world know yet that I'm not a morning person?

Zoocosis!

My daily commute involves rushing up and down stairways that are never wide enough and then crowding into a train car that is always too hot (and stinky) or too cold. On lucky days I get a seat but what is guaranteed is that I and my fellow commuters are too close together. It does not make for polite society.

At times the train jerks to a stop and, after a few moments, the train's intercom crackles to life. On the rare occasions that one can actually make out the words said by the conductor (do they do that on purpose?) one gets a message that must have been scripted by someone who lives in a civil society where each person has at least a square mile of personal space. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have been delayed but will be moving shortly. Thank you for your patience." Patience? Where are we? Not even in the movies are New Yorkers on a train patient. People are busy trying not to kick, bite or punch that person who is digging their elbow into them or that kid that is kicking them in the thigh. There is that standing person who is leaning their butt into your seated face. Oh someone just spilt illegal coffee on someone else and now an argument is going on and it's not even 9 am.

It would make more sense to beg - please try not to maul each other. Finally, after years of this, an actual subway rider got a hold of the message and made a change. Now we get, "we apologise for any inconvenience caused." Of course they don't mean that - if they did we would get a more spacious commute - but at least we are being given free rein to pinch that kicking kid.

Sidebar

yesterday i was heading home and waiting on the subway platform for my train.  a confused-looking woman approached me hesitatingly to ask if "this train stops at 42nd Street."  because many trains stop at many parts of 42nd street and that does not necessarily mean that train is stopping where you wish to go, i asked her where she was trying to go.  "i was just told that i needed to get on the 7 train to queens."  i consulted my handy subway map (i always like to be sure before i give directions, as i have no sense of said direction) and i confirmed that she was indeed in the right place.  she still looked frustrated, so i said - are you new to the subway? "yes!" was the response and a grimace that told me that she was not enjoying any of the benefits of public transportation.
"i'm just going through a lot right now," she continued and then i noticed that she was fighting back tears.

now, for the past few weeks, i have had an overwhelming feeling that the world needs more hugs.  a very simplistic approach to everything but my simple heart looks out and sees how easily people throw out their anger but it is so so hard to give a hug... especially to a stranger.  in recent times, often i think of my dear blog buddy dodo and imagine that right now i could send many hugs and more.  dodo's wonderful images convey such emotion, reflective of the roller coaster ride we are on right now.

the lady on the train sat down next to me and sniffed.  i smiled at her and then looked into my bag and rifled around a bit.  i found what i was looking for.

i handed her a tissue and then we were at her stop.  i wished her good luck and sent her a virtual hug.  maybe the world is not quite ready for random stranger hugs, but i think we could handle more smiles and virtual *hugs*

now i want to dance too! 

Summer's In The Air

so, this is how it happens...

a train pulled up and, in pavlovian mode, you hopped in. maybe you came running down the stairs and barely made it through the doors or, perhaps, you were exhausted after a long day at work and didn't give stepping in a second thought. it was rush hour and yet the car was suprisingly empty - there were empty seats all over the place - in fact almost the entire car was empty. fantastic, you thought, you'll be getting a seat all the way home. and then a thought makes it way through the tired fog covering your brain - how can this be? how can you have so many seats during rush hour? a moment too late you realise that there is something wrong. something terribly wrong. you lurch towards the train doors but reach them just as they squeak shut. you are trapped. you try not to, but you have to inhale.

and nearly pass out. the stench seems to be an impossibility. what could have come together to create this toxic odour? you look around and spot the mass of garbage bags piled around a seat and, in the middle of it all, a grey form. it is always grey colour cannot live among such smells. it dies and leaves behind only its shadow - like ashes after a cremation. you see a few people huddled on the opposite end of the train car. they are they ones who have decided they are going to try to survive the ride, in the name of a seat. their feet hurt enough that they are willing to let some nose hairs get burnt away for a little bit of rest. and then, there are those like you, squeezed against the train doors, trying (without any luck) to take in wisps of air from the tunnel outside. others try to find a scarf, sweater or piece of tissue to breathe into, hoping that the material will filter the poison out of the air. you all just have to last until the next stop. then you can dash out and run to the next car.

you make it and as you make your escape, and breathe in the less poisonous air of the subway, you see others jump on, lunge towards the empty seats. you see that familiar look of relief turn into horror as the train doors close...