L Train Chronicles

 I´ve come to the conclusion of this: I have felt most human riding the train. 

The whole concept of the train is to be an affordable and relatively reliable form of transportation for all. You can have on a brand new pair of Fire Reds and still have them scuffed. Same goes for the folk who like to wear those pairs of Vans that they´ve had for years that have holes frothing out of the big toe area. Your shoes are going to get got. Or you new Moncler puffer. Or Canada Goose. La calidad no vale para nada. In other words, how much you paid for your stupid fucking clothes doesn´t matter for jack shit. 

You are going to get shoved slightly when someone gets off of the train. They might even give you the gentle but assertive ¨Excuse me!¨ to grab your attention since you probably are listening to some bullshit song commuting either to or from your job, or wherever you seem to be going. 

The subway performers? They don´t give a shit either! The hat flip is going to be less than three centimeters from your face. If you are lucky they´ll give you a fist bump. They´ll make you and everyone else pretending to care on the train clap for them after their performance, ask for cash, and shoutout ¨WE HAVE VENMO, CASHAPP¨ to clarify that the ¨I have no cash excuse¨ is slowly dying out.

Now, what is so special about all of these happenings that compliment each other on what seems like a non-stop basis? Well, for me, it´s that they are all happening in a controlled space. The train is going at hundreds of miles per hour (cap, I actually have no clue), and the only escape is to jump out of the doors that may or may not open when you are careening through the tunnels (I have not tried that, but if I live to tell the tale this blog will be updated immediately). You can escape to another subway car if there are accessible thru-doors, but if not, you´re hit. It´s one of the few spaces that regardless of who you are, just for a subway ride, you are subject to the exact same surroundings, air quality, company, commute time, annoying children crying, dried piss smells, noise from someone´s speaker playing out loud, sand from Rockway beach, empty coffee cups, bodega sandwich wrappers on the ground, irritation from being packed like sardines, awkward eye contact, phone scrolling, and so much more, that everyone else is subject to. And that, folks, is the beauty of it. 

REST IN PEACE TO YOUNG DOLPH.