Tag Archives: new york city

3am Subway Attack

I’ve been riding the New York subway at ungodly hours for months now–about 9, to be exact.  Last night I left work at 3am.  Business as usual.  There’s the option of taking a cab, but they just don’t appeal to me.  Sitting in the backseat as someone chauffeurs me home feels extravagant.  It takes longer to go by subway, but this affords me time to read, write, or just stare ahead blankly.  The risks involved in riding public transportation in the middle of the night really haven’t been an issue…thieves, rapists, drug addicts, belligerent homeless people–they haven’t pestered me much.  Nothing has pestered me much, really.

But last night that changed.  I was standing beside one of those tiled columns on the platform.  I admired a small rat climbing over one of the rails.  No lights shone in the tunnel, so I focused on writing in my notepad.  A few people waited, but overall the station was pretty quiet.

After a few moments, though, something happened.  I felt a sensation on my toes.  I live in flip-flops in the summer.  I didn’t think much of the sensation at first, but it was enough to inspire me to look down.  At first I noticed that my toes were a bit dirty.  I made a mental note to take a shower when I got home.  But as I looked closer, I saw a bug walking over two of the toes on my left foot.  Not just a bug–a bee!

I sucked in my breath and was at a loss as to what to do.  One simply does not expect to have to problem solve this sort of problem in the subway at 3am.  Luckily, after a few moments, the bee crawled onto the plastic strap of my flip-flop.  I slowly eased my foot out of my flip-flop–positive that I would be stung at any moment.  It didn’t sting me, though, and I was able to pick up the shoe, tap it on the platform, and be rid of the bee.

I put my flip-flop back on, took a few steps back, and chuckled about what had just happened.  Before I chuckled more than once or twice, though, I saw the bee FLYING towards me.  Why do they do that? It landed on my skirt.  What I had been laughing about a second earlier, sent me into a sudden moderate panic–

I know.  It’s not that bee stings even hurt terribly or that I’m allergic, but if it can be avoided at all, that’s certainly preferable.

In any event, I sort of lost it.  The bee flew off of my skirt and hovered very close to me.  It seemed to have its sights set on landing on the back of my shirt at this point.  I’m not sure if it did make it on my shirt or not, but in an effort to escape, I started running down the subway platform.  Running and whimpering.  And desperately trying to get a good look at my back to see if the bee had landed.

When I stopped running, I no longer saw the bee, but I continued to fidget and whimper.  A man sat on a nearby bench.  He’d been witness to my frantic running.  I’m not sure if he knew why I was behaving in that manner.  I kind of hope he had no idea.  Because if he didn’t see the bee, then for that brief amount of time, I was, in his mind, an insane person.  Running from nothing.  At 3am on the subway platform.

I still don’t know what became of the bee or where it came from.  The train came soon after I stopped running.  I checked the reflection of my back in the train glass to be completely sure of the bee’s absence.  Nothing.  I inhaled and exhaled deeply and waited for my stop.

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My Neighborhood on a Grey Day

I was in a funk earlier, so I decided to walk and take photographs of the most depressing/poignant/thought-provoking things that struck me. Here are some of the results: 

Tireless

Tireless

 

Lit

Men

Men

BarbedWireCross

The Chrysler Building

The Chrysler Building

The Empire State Building

The Empire State Building

Toilet

The Toilet

 

ReservedParking

AndJusticeForAll

 

In case you couldn’t tell from the angsty tone…taking these ended up being incredibly therapeutic.  And I think I’ll undertake frequent photographic walks in the coming weeks.  It’ll be really good because…I don’t know if I’ll be in this neighborhood for much longer, so it’s sort of like spending quality time with an elderly aunt in the nursing home who’s on her last leg.  Only better.

Scare Tactics

Newspaper copy of late that would add fuel to the fire of my mom’s sentiment that I should “move home immediately” because my life, in New York City, is in grave danger:

The next time you have a coughing fit, it might not be the common cold, but the air you are breathing, at least according to a recent report issued by the American Lung Association.

The 10th annual State of the Air Report, released on April 29, found that Queens, along with the Bronx and Manhattan, are the dirtiest counties in the state for particle pollution.  The study states that 12.5 million New Yorkers reside in counties where the air pollution can endanger lives. —Bad air days: Queens fails a pollution test,” Queens Chronicle

The city is polluted?!  I think I’ve heard that somewhere before…  But this paragraph would really horrify the parental:

Astrology and Tarot cards are my favorite divinatory tools, but I also get a lot of use out of magnetic poetry kits, boxes full of evocative words and symbols in the form of refrigerator magnets.  Sometimes, I’ll close my eyes, beam a question out into the ethers, and pluck a few magnets at random from one of my poetry kits.  I just did that for you. ‘What are the keys to unlocking the enormous reserves of energy that are potentiall available for Aries folks right now?’ I asked.  Here’s the message that came: ‘swooping orgasms & laughing tears.’ (Or it could also be arranged this way: ‘laughing orgasms & swooping tears.’) —Rob Brezsny’s Free Will Astrology, for the week of Apr. 22-28

I bring these articles up because I do have a bit of a cough.  And moving home in the somewhat near future is a possibility.  (Which tends to complicate orgasms, both swooping and laughing ones.)

Testosterone Not Included

I was away from New York City for four days, and so much changed during my sojourn.  When I opened the door to my apartment around midnight last night, there was a giant man standing there.  After my eyes adjusted a little, though, I realized it wasn’t a man–just an oversized lamp in the shape of a man.  It’s kind of reminiscent of this:

…only it’s a man. 

I guess that’s the only real change.