On my way home I went to the Chambers Street A train station and it was still considered rush hour so a lot of people were waiting. The train was taking a long time coming, like a half an hour long. So by the time it ambled in there were maybe a hundred people boarding.
It was the most crowded train I've ever been on. The man to my right was mashed up against me, the woman to my left and I could have been lovers the way we were pressed. My back was against a glass barrier and to stay calm I kept telling myself at least I was taller and my head was above the crowd.
The train pulled away and at the next station there were hordes of people wanting on and very few on the train getting off. This lasted for most of the up and down length of Manhattan, as I live in the northern most part.
I told the lady, my temporary train lover that it was a good thing I loved people cause our intimacy level was really high at the moment. She laughed, said she didn't live here anymore and the situation was a little intense for her. She told me she lives in the suburbs of PA and I oooed and aaaed although the idea was excruciating to me. Anywhere but NYC is.
Train lover fell into silence and I hoped she wasn't thinking about freaking out since our bodies were all but fused together.
A fight almost broke out further up in the car and the ongoing rant of one of the perpetrators made the guy behind train lover tense and he muttered to himself.
Although it was a pain in the ass it was another train ride I loved. I can't help but find these moments of condensed focus on what's around me, of the press of people against me as metaphors for life in general. They are the quick versions of class. They're summer classes.
(I was able to take the pics after it got less crowded so it doesn't show the press at its worst but you get the idea. Sorry they're so blurry.)
15 comments:
Funny how a train (life) can be so crowded at times, but when you really could use some company, everyone else has taken a bus that day.
Thanks for the pic of the train...
I bet you were everyone's favourite commuter when you pulled out the digital camera...
Good one I'ma, and too true.
Pendullum, do you know the city or what? I got mad attitude and dirty looks...and, I took two shots. I was too scared to take more. lol
How cool. I mean...I'd probably be freaking out if I was in that mess...but hearing about it is lovely.
Erg! It's scenes like this that make me dread my trip to New York. Too many people!
(Yeah, Chicago's full of people, too. But not quite as to the brim as your fair city. That and I avoid leaving my apartment unless I have to.)
Neat-o pic, though.
GH~ Please do not delete the spam comment. I was ready to say something when *poof* I forgot it as I read Askinstoo. I mean, he's so upbeat and enthusiastic. Not only did he share the joy of his sudden riches, but he's searching your blog to make sure you know how to do it, too.
Kristin-hey baby, I'm so sorry. I deleted it before I read your comment. Say it anyways...so when you comin to NYC?
When I can learn the difference between the H and R keys. I now refer to you as Gandhi Hules to justify my lack of whatever it is. I'll be at the stadium on Sunday night for Le Beeg Game. Yous guys versus us guys. I am so excited that I pee a little every time I think of it.
K-LOL, you pee, this happens to me too, when I rock climb and repel.
Yankee Stadium?? Bleacher seats baby? Oh tell me it's so...Best time ever. Wish I had tickets too. We could get drunk before we go in and then order nachos and accidentally spill them onto the back of the person who our knees are jammed into and then apologize in our best drunkard slur
while we uselessly dab at the guys shirt, smearing it in more
maggie-it's the press that gives NYC it's charm. Come along, when you get here for your bday we'll ride the trains and practice a little deep breathing and meditation.
I got the fancyass seats for this one. You! In the yellow smock! Fetch me my hootch! I wish I had a ticket for you, too. Look for me on the tellingvision. I'll be down the third base line at mezz level, the one that's all assjack happy and clapping for no apparent reason but you and I know it's just because YAY! The next time I get tickets (post season is forget it), you'll just have to come with me so we can do the mustard smear. As they play music between a change in pitchers, we'll dance and keep dancing even when it stops, just to make someone yell at us to put our groove thing away. And we won't. Our image will appear all over the web as the bad girls who wouldn't stop dancing and now we all love them. Voila!
I think my blood sugar may have been low with that last comment. Just re-read it and thought, Oh, shut UUUP!
I'm shorter than you and I normally have a backpack, so I have a very rough time on crowded trains. My elbows usually start a'flyin, then I freak out and walk home. Or wait til later at least.
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