An Unexpected Commuter Smile
**Forgive me readers, for I have sinned. It’s been seven days since my last submission. At long last…an entry!**
For a couple of days now, I have taken to using the open-aired streets of the City to circumvent that atrocious walk through that dreaded and often talked about 8th Avenue Tunnel. I sort of miss the interesting cast of characters I sometimes find down there, but not enough to endure the stank of it all.
Truly, I want to kick my own ass for all of the months I spent trekking through there in all sorts of unpleasantly scented summer weather. Then when it finally occurred to me that – “Hey! Maybe I could walk above ground to get from Point A to Point B”, I was all but sure that the thought reached me by some divine intervention: (Hi, Mami!).
So I first experimented with this on Monday. It was entirely too hot and muggy to even consider the tunnel. On the bus ride in I was grasping for ideas in my head of ways to avoid it. Still, I wasn’t comfortable enough, or awake enough, to tackle that in the wee hours of a Monday morning. Off I went down my usual path – of near destruction – in the underground world.
But by day’s end, I was both exhausted and too hot to subject myself to the walk back. So after I took my short train ride to 42nd street, I made a purposeful detour and exited at one of the subway’s street exits instead of plowing my way through crowds to the tunnel. As soon as I reached that top step and inhaled, I knew I was hooked. Granted, I wasn’t inhaling the world’s cleanest air – God knows NYC contributes extensively to the hole in the ozone layer, but still it was leaps and bounds better than the rancid air found below.
Feeling suddenly reenergized, I spun around to try to get my bearings about me and figure out in which direction I needed to head to find Port Authority. That is a known hazard of NYC living. Whenever you get out of the subway, it takes a couple of seconds to get reacquainted with your area and figure out where it is you’re heading. Somehow I had it in my head that to find Port Authority from that place I appeared out of I would have to face a myriad of twists, turns and tangles similar to the ones I encounter on my roundtrips each day. I fully expected, though I can’t understand why, to deal with steps up and then down, crossing over, going above, walking below and basically experiencing the same kind of thing I do everyday underground.
Imagine my surprise – and the happy afterglow – when I walked up to a police officer and asked for directions. She smiled kindly, pointed to the space directly behind me and said, “Turn around, there it is straight away.”
Indeed, there it was. Somewhat stately and across hordes of people, across a street flanked by Broadway shows with popular names, in all of its unglorified grandeur, the Port Authority of the City of New York. I couldn’t quite grasp how my current Point A was in such close proximity to my new point B. Below ground, connecting these two points, as I have made so abundantly clear, is a daily test of patience, endurance and sheer bravado. Yet here I was suddenly a mere avenue away, crossing over at the immediate change of the Don’t Walk sign to green, sandwiched between crowds so thick, it made it difficult to be 5’2” tall and still get a bit of air in those lungs to make it in time!
But make it, I did, and with time to spare. I quickly determined that not only was this newfound route easier on the body, it was easier on the clock, as well. After I traipsed across with my fellow city dwellers, I sprinted from the Port Authority entrance, right up to my bus gate, thrilled to have found an alternative to the worst part of my every day!
I am still in the learning stages of my new path, but when it too becomes familiar, I will start again to look around at the faces and places all around. From them I will glean an assortment of topics and tales on which to base my entries. I am quite sure that the New Yorkers above ground are just as fascinating, if not more so, than the ones I only see in that state of un-joy beneath the City’s streets. Granted, in the event that it is below freezing and either raining or snowing, I will not be so eager to race across above ground, but it’s nice to know it’s there, if I need it.
For a couple of days now, I have taken to using the open-aired streets of the City to circumvent that atrocious walk through that dreaded and often talked about 8th Avenue Tunnel. I sort of miss the interesting cast of characters I sometimes find down there, but not enough to endure the stank of it all.
Truly, I want to kick my own ass for all of the months I spent trekking through there in all sorts of unpleasantly scented summer weather. Then when it finally occurred to me that – “Hey! Maybe I could walk above ground to get from Point A to Point B”, I was all but sure that the thought reached me by some divine intervention: (Hi, Mami!).
So I first experimented with this on Monday. It was entirely too hot and muggy to even consider the tunnel. On the bus ride in I was grasping for ideas in my head of ways to avoid it. Still, I wasn’t comfortable enough, or awake enough, to tackle that in the wee hours of a Monday morning. Off I went down my usual path – of near destruction – in the underground world.
But by day’s end, I was both exhausted and too hot to subject myself to the walk back. So after I took my short train ride to 42nd street, I made a purposeful detour and exited at one of the subway’s street exits instead of plowing my way through crowds to the tunnel. As soon as I reached that top step and inhaled, I knew I was hooked. Granted, I wasn’t inhaling the world’s cleanest air – God knows NYC contributes extensively to the hole in the ozone layer, but still it was leaps and bounds better than the rancid air found below.
Feeling suddenly reenergized, I spun around to try to get my bearings about me and figure out in which direction I needed to head to find Port Authority. That is a known hazard of NYC living. Whenever you get out of the subway, it takes a couple of seconds to get reacquainted with your area and figure out where it is you’re heading. Somehow I had it in my head that to find Port Authority from that place I appeared out of I would have to face a myriad of twists, turns and tangles similar to the ones I encounter on my roundtrips each day. I fully expected, though I can’t understand why, to deal with steps up and then down, crossing over, going above, walking below and basically experiencing the same kind of thing I do everyday underground.
Imagine my surprise – and the happy afterglow – when I walked up to a police officer and asked for directions. She smiled kindly, pointed to the space directly behind me and said, “Turn around, there it is straight away.”
Indeed, there it was. Somewhat stately and across hordes of people, across a street flanked by Broadway shows with popular names, in all of its unglorified grandeur, the Port Authority of the City of New York. I couldn’t quite grasp how my current Point A was in such close proximity to my new point B. Below ground, connecting these two points, as I have made so abundantly clear, is a daily test of patience, endurance and sheer bravado. Yet here I was suddenly a mere avenue away, crossing over at the immediate change of the Don’t Walk sign to green, sandwiched between crowds so thick, it made it difficult to be 5’2” tall and still get a bit of air in those lungs to make it in time!
But make it, I did, and with time to spare. I quickly determined that not only was this newfound route easier on the body, it was easier on the clock, as well. After I traipsed across with my fellow city dwellers, I sprinted from the Port Authority entrance, right up to my bus gate, thrilled to have found an alternative to the worst part of my every day!
I am still in the learning stages of my new path, but when it too becomes familiar, I will start again to look around at the faces and places all around. From them I will glean an assortment of topics and tales on which to base my entries. I am quite sure that the New Yorkers above ground are just as fascinating, if not more so, than the ones I only see in that state of un-joy beneath the City’s streets. Granted, in the event that it is below freezing and either raining or snowing, I will not be so eager to race across above ground, but it’s nice to know it’s there, if I need it.
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