Drivin' That Train

So, transit strike, day 3 and my ass has never looked better! What a way to burn off those holiday calories - walking 51 blocks to and from work. In the freezing cold. It's not that bad... it only takes an hour. I'm not one of the Brooklynites who have to cross the bridge morning and night in what I can only imagine to be one heck of a crossbreeze. Alternatively, I can pay $15 each way to get to work, even though I have a perfectly good weekly MetroCard burning a hole in my pocket.

Holiday shopping has to be done on the trek home, but luckily my walk takes me through the exclusive shopping in Times Square (I Love NY t-shirt, anyone?), Columbus Circle (can barely afford to peek into the stores) and other westside shops that for some reason close at 7:PM. Any shop not on my route home is out of the question because the cost of taxis would be too much and my only other option would be to walk there as well.

I miss my train. I miss being squeezed in like sardines, rubbing against strangers. The smell, the sound of train screeching 'round the bend, the rats on the tracks, the conductors that sometimes yell at us to get inside the train or alternatively wish us a happy holiday season. The traveling musicians, who sing "This little light of mine" in harmony while passing around the hat, and end their show with "And smile! It won't mess up your hair!" in unison.

I'll tell you this, next time I'm waiting on the platform, when the trains are up and running again, I will be less likely to become impatient while waiting for my ride (yea, right, who am I kidding??!), craning my neck to catch a glimpse of the headlights somewhere down the tunnel. Perhaps this strike has taught us all a thing or two about how good we really have it. But it definitely proved, yet again, that New Yorkers are a resilient bunch who do what has to be done and really band together in times like this. I love this mess of a city that I call home!!!