Have a Nice Trip?

So I am walking up the escalator today and my foot catches on one of the moving steps and my face starts plunging downwards.  My pulse quickens and I grab the rail to catch myself but at the same time my messenger bag swings off my back to my side and I attempt to swing it back behind me.

This obviously makes a huge scene on the escalator and there are several people right next to me that are shirking away in fear of getting knocked over by this tall blonde klutz (but so well dressed!).

I recover somehow without injury and continue up the steps as if nothing happened.  What else could I do?  I had to march on.  As I neared the top of the escalator, I started chuckling to myself.  Again, what else could I do?  That had to have looked hilarious to anyone nearby so I couldn't help at laugh at my lack of grace.

Living in New York guarantees many things, one of which is lots of walking.  This copious amount of walking inevitably leads to trips and sometimes falls.  This happens to every New Yorker and I for one have embraced my own clumsiness.

I've definitely found myself laughing more and more whenever I trip and my arms and legs go flailing and my face is filled with terror that I'm going to end up face down in the muck.

I think this basically demonstrates a couple of things: (1) At times I can easily laugh at myself; (2) looking like a fool is something to be embraced and can be healthy for you.  

So get out there people!  Fall all over yourself and loosen up some.  Don't take yourself so seriously.  See, doesn't that feel better?

A Large Aqua Sweater Makes My Commute

Good morning readers.  You may have noticed that I've been in a fairly negative mood lately.  This is due to a number of factors that I won't discuss here but it's strange how unexpected everyday things have the uncanny ability to cheer someone up (in this case, me).

I'm on the Q this morning and we arrive at the last stop in Brooklyn, DeKalb Ave., when a seat opens directly in front of where I'm standing.  I decide not to take it because A) I sit all day anyway and B) Out of the corner of my eye I notice a large young woman in aqua sweater lumbering towards the seat like a Mack Truck on Interstate 80.  She nudges me aside and crashes down in the empty seat.

At first, I'm pissed.  This fat, ghetto wannabe girl rudely charges into this seat without apology.  Completely shameless, this girl.  Quickly, however, my annoyance turns to mild amusement because it suddenly appears to me that this girl is potentially narcoleptic.  I had turned away for a nano-second and she's dead asleep, mouth open, and her head slumping slowly towards the shoulder of the poor sap sitting next to her.

At first, he's obviously uncomfortable but maintains his ground.  This poor guy is less than half the size of this woman.  The train starts crossing the Manhattan Bridge and she keeps slumping closer and closer to him, clearly broaching his personal space.  He eventually abandons ship and gives up his seat.  Aqua sweater wakes up suddenly and moves to the vacated seat (apparently her seat didn't provide enough space).  Instantly she falls back asleep.

I see a well dressed man, standing in one of the doorways chronically shaking his head at this sight.  A woman standing next to me is chuckling to herself quietly.  I couldn't help but to turn away and start laughing myself.  

But the entertainment isn't over.  The girl, still dead asleep, is now slowly verging in on the personal space of the poor girl next to her who was probably thinking less than 30 seconds ago "thank god that woman isn't sitting next to me".  Her arms are straight in front of  but are nearly crossing each other as she tries to maintain some type of personal space.  By this time, the whole car is aware of what is going on and most people are smiling at the very least or shaking their heads in bewilderment.

The poor girl gives up her seat at Canal St. and no one volunteers to brave the waters of the Aqua Sweater, who, incidentally, is still dead asleep even when the train comes to an abrupt stop.

Her last victim is the woman that is sitting at the very end of the bench but Aqua Sweater is falling over to her side so far that her head is practically in the woman's lap.  I imagine that the woman has her headphones blaring but it is obvious that she is still agitated.

Fortunately for all on in the car, 14th St. arrives and Aqua Sweater awakens, looks around like a gopher poking his head out of his burrow and decides this was her stop.  She gets up groggily and lumbers off the train.

As soon as she's gone people scramble for the two spots vacated.  I'm just laughing and actually forgetting my troubles for the rest of my commute.  Good times.  Good New York times.

At the Corner of Laziness and Ignorance

I came to the conclusion recently that people are lazy about the strangest things and I, for one, do not escape this conclusion.  There is strange intersection at Cortelyou Road and Coney Island Avenue in my neighborhood (the pizza at Palermo right at the corner is pretty good).

 As a person walks on Cortelyou Road (in either direction) towards Coney Island Avenue, you can see that the two streets do not intersect directly.  The Cortelyou Road on the south[1] side of Coney Island Ave. is further east than the north side of Coney Island Ave.  Cars turning left on to Coney Island from Cortelyou, in either direction, take up a good portion of the intersection when they have the green light.

 Pedestrians have two options to cross the street in cross walks but the vast majority of pedestrians choose to walk across Coney Island Ave. in the middle, right where both left-turning cars (regardless of who has the green light) have to drive.  There is even A SIGN that says “proceed to the cross walk”.  Most people ignore this and walk in front of these cars that technically have the right-of-way.  I mean if someone driving their car to that intersection is having a bad day and thus, driving angry, you may end up on NY1 that day.

 Now, why all these pedestrians (including myself) choose not to proceed to the cross walks (and thus, escape any negligence that would be thrown at a pedestrian by a road raging New Yorker) cannot be thoroughly determined.

I can tell you that, personally, I don’t proceed to either of the cross walks because, in the mornings, I want to walk in the shade which falls on the east[2] side in the pre-noon hours.  In the evenings, I'm probably just too tired to care and probably don't mind if I get hit by a car.  I will say that I have gone to great lengths to at least look if there are vehicles approaching the intersection and not walking in front of them without paying any mind.

A friend from the neighborhood and I had a chat recently about the intersection’s phenomena and we chalked it up to laziness.  A I really too lazy to walk back across Cortelyou to get to the subway station?  Am I really too lazy to walk the extra distance across Cortelyou to get to the cross walk in order to cross Coney Island?  

In short: probably.

Truly a strange thing to be lazy about but I’m sure most people that cross in between the crosswalks are doing for similar reason to me, and thus, are choosing to cross the street in this spot out of laziness.  Not necessarily a conscious decision, but nevertheless, still a choice.

So Americans are lazy.  That’s nothing new.  But this may raise the bar a bit higher.  I guess the bright side would be that these people are at least walking.

---

[1] Not truly south

[2] Not truly east

A Horse Walks Into a Bar, the Bartender says...

At several points today I've noticed a number of people (in fact the majority of people) looking really miserable. Personally, I haven't been in the best of moods the last couple of days but I don't think I've been looking as despondent as most of the people out there.

The subway is a classic place for finding the most depressed, despondent, hopeless, tragic, and pessimistic people in the City. That wasn't so surprising.

But then I'm walking to work and I see a couple of people standing outside near the office that look as if they just saw Old Yeller for the first time. Further, I'm suddenly noticing similar looks on people's faces in the elevator, in the cafeteria, all around the office, pretty much everywhere I go.

What the hell is going on? A few possibilities: 1) the weather has been about as comfortable as a 15 year old boy trying to buy condoms 2) the economy is performing like post-steroid scandal baseball players 3) the people that still have their jobs wish they were part of the layoff statistics 4) the hot dog vendors are making everyone bob for their own hot dog.

Are New Yorkers constantly miserable? I guess it's possible. But definitely not these guys though:

This gives the rest of us hope (and these guys aren't even running for President)!