It rained all day in New York today. This means that the usually crowded subways are even more so. It didn't help that the L Train was for some unknown reason unusually late. When it stopped at the platform a wave of humanity, myself included, squeezed into the car. But, just when you thought it would stop more people continued to push in and squeeze. It is an experience unlike any other. It cannot be described - it must be lived. I could not lift my arms or move. You are completely helpless. On the bright side you didn't have to hang on. It took the door several attempts to close.
At the next stop the unthinkable happened. A very large man insisted on squeezing into the car. Now the door really had trouble closing. Two young girls, who had been part of the last excess push, started berating the guy yelling "You're too big!" "Get off!". Well he didn't, the doors closed and the train started moving. However, the mouths continued - on and on - "why did ya squeeze in?" and on and on. Another passenger spoke up and said "Hey, I saw you doing the same thing. The man just wanted on the train." Of course the mouths had to reply with "mind your own business! Who in the f*** asked you? Etc., etc."
It was getting tense - the abusive language was going back and forth - the passengers were all very nervous. Just then I spoke up in a voice loud enough to be heard through the entire car, "I'm from out of town and I always tell the folks back home how amazed I am at just how polite New Yorkers are towards one another on crowded subways." Well the entire car, including the mouths, cracked up. People were guffawing and laughing. As they stopped I spoke again, "Whether you know it or not you're the most beautiful people on Earth in tight places. Please don't change that image for me."
A middle-aged woman who was squeezed up against me whispered "That was very nice"; a young black guy - dressed in full rapper regalia - squeezed on my other side whispered "thank you". At that point we hit the 1st Ave. stop and a lot of us got off. Room again to breathe.
Some people can't see the forest for the trees. New Yorkers really are beautiful in tight spaces. Now they know someone noticed. The funny thing is that after I said it, they immediately began living up to it.
At the next stop the unthinkable happened. A very large man insisted on squeezing into the car. Now the door really had trouble closing. Two young girls, who had been part of the last excess push, started berating the guy yelling "You're too big!" "Get off!". Well he didn't, the doors closed and the train started moving. However, the mouths continued - on and on - "why did ya squeeze in?" and on and on. Another passenger spoke up and said "Hey, I saw you doing the same thing. The man just wanted on the train." Of course the mouths had to reply with "mind your own business! Who in the f*** asked you? Etc., etc."
It was getting tense - the abusive language was going back and forth - the passengers were all very nervous. Just then I spoke up in a voice loud enough to be heard through the entire car, "I'm from out of town and I always tell the folks back home how amazed I am at just how polite New Yorkers are towards one another on crowded subways." Well the entire car, including the mouths, cracked up. People were guffawing and laughing. As they stopped I spoke again, "Whether you know it or not you're the most beautiful people on Earth in tight places. Please don't change that image for me."
A middle-aged woman who was squeezed up against me whispered "That was very nice"; a young black guy - dressed in full rapper regalia - squeezed on my other side whispered "thank you". At that point we hit the 1st Ave. stop and a lot of us got off. Room again to breathe.
Some people can't see the forest for the trees. New Yorkers really are beautiful in tight spaces. Now they know someone noticed. The funny thing is that after I said it, they immediately began living up to it.
No comments:
Post a Comment