SUBWAY TALES

Part 1

Like every normal, red-blooded New Yorker, I spent at least two hours of every working day on the subway. As I mentioned before, New York subway is not just a mode of transportation; it is a constant source of entertainment and adventure. Here are some of mine.

I love riding the subway chiefly because this is my reading time. So, in order to maximize the enjoyment, I have to make sure to get a seat (at all times) and to insure that the AC is working (during the summer months). The latter is achieved by simply touching the poles (although I know I look totally demented while doing so). The former, on the other hand...That requires art, one of the applications of which is following: during rush hour (if you have time), do not, under any circumstances, take Brooklyn-bound train on any stop located in the heavy Midtown shopping areas (like 34th or 42nd Street). Instead, take a north bound train for a few stops, then you can board the train when it is less crowded, and you will be insured a comfortable ride back home. Q train makes this especially easy for the past few years, since it finishes its route on 57th Street and then goes back. So, if you are shopping in Macy's, take the uptown train, ride two stops backwards, wait a little while, and you are on your way back to less exiting borough, but in comfort.

Which is precisely what I was doing one nice winter evening. After semi-successful shopping excursion I got on the uptown Q on 34th Street, found a seat, and opened my book. At the time I was reading Othello. Now, as previously mentioned, I get very passionate about my reading material and very involved with the characters and story line. As the train was trundling towards 57th Street, I was deeply involved in Othello's tortured monologue about his love for Desdemona and his deep feeling of betrayal at the news of her supposed infidelity. The more I read, the more disgusted I became with the stupid idiot. Unfortunately, I can never keep a poker face and contain my feelings inside. So, I kept shaking my head, raising my eyebrows and muttering. At one point I proclaimed out loud: "Just over a handkerchief, you stupid idiot!"

Diagonally from me there sat a middle aged, mild mannered looking tourist, who kept staring at me with fascination and horror. Here it is at last, one of authentic New York loonies! I saw him fiddling with his camera strap; fortunately, he obviously was not sure if I am harmless enough to permit picture taking. So, I continued cursing Othello, and he continued to stare at me and play with his camera.

Finally, we arrived at 57th Street. Since I had already found a favorite perch, I ploughed on through the misadventures of the jealous Moor. The kindly tourist decided to take pity on me before leaving the train. He cautiously approached my bench, looked down and pointed at the door: "it's the last stop." "Yes, I know, thank you", was my response with a smile, then I bend my head to continue sympathizing with Desdemona. The poor guy gazed at me with renewed terror and quickly run out of the car.

Till this day I have no idea if he had regrets for not taking that souvenir shot.