Images from my subway morning rides...
She must have gotten off the Jersey Path train. She has teased bangs and I hear Jon Bon Jovi's voice rocking from the earphones of her Ipod the moment she sits down next to me on the crowded train. The cliche is so cliche it isnt cliche. So, I close my eyes and listen to Jon singing about giving love a bad name...and for a moment I pretend I am also a Jersey Girl.
I rise automatically when a child enters the car. The moms are always grateful to me...sometimes I even am trusted to take the child and seat them when the train is crowded. The mornings are filled with half asleep rugrats with Dora backpacks going to school, quiet and cute. Sometimes the sleep from their eyes leaves them and they chat with me about Diego (one time a little boy took a book out and wanted to read it to me). I then think about Jack, of course, and miss him terribly in the early morning.
They are young, wearing wedding bands and looking tired on their early morning commute. They are standing in front of me holding the rail above. The entire ride they managed to somehow stay physically connected, whether it was a hand right at his coat or his hand by her arm. It was as fluid as the train, the way their two bodies connected, though barely touching. I think of the Prince in this moment and then get jealous of this couple. I would love taking my early morning commute with him...what bliss that would be. I imagine us quiet, sipping coffee, and me working hard to nuzzle my head into his shoulder if we were able to get a seat next to each other.
She is reading "Great Love Letters of Great Men Volume I" like Carrie did from the "Sex and the City Movie" and I realize I do want to get a copy of it myself to read. He is reading the latest David Baldacci novel, as do most men on this train - is it a guy thing? I am always amazed by the women who openly expose the covers of romance novels with the half-naked men and women touching in what is apparently a wind storm because their hair and shirts and dresses are blowing...I just would be too embarrassed. I get tempted to speak to the college student if they are next to me reading a classic, like "Their Eyes Were Watching God" but then realize its way to early in the morning for a book talk...and I have yet to have my coffee anyway. You cant talk about books until you have coffee.
I always know who is getting off at my stop - Wall Street - even if I have never seen them before. I admit that I get a high getting off at Wall Street each morning. Despite everything, its a great place to work and I am proud of where I work and I am proud I made it as a working girl down there. When the subway door opens and I exit, my chin is always up.
The Metro and AM New York are always read, and I peek at the latest headlines since I rarely pick them up even though I like the Metro. Sometimes I see a Post or Daily News, but the majority is always the Times (which I read online on my Blackberry). Ironically, I see The Wall Street Journal quite infrequently. It has a distinctive peach tone in the paper that makes it easy to spot. My manager tells me I should be reading that instead of the "rag" known as the Times. Oh, I disagree, boss! Sometimes I get whacked with the Times because its a hard paper to maneuver reading on a crowded subway...there is a trick to it, but I don't mind when it happens because I want people reading that paper.
My eyes are closed and I feel the rhythm of the train pass through 14th Street, Chambers, Park Place...
I am tired and want nothing more to be snuggled up somewhere with the Prince under a big comforter and lots of pillows with no alarm on. Most mornings on the subway, this is my thought...
Labels: New York City Girl