MTA

There are very few things worse than a non-air conditioned subway car.   I cannot even fathom how dreadful and horrible riding the trains must have been before all of the cars had a/c, because every time I get into a car with stagnate warm horrible air I want to immediately flee.

There are always those moments, when you’re waiting on the train platform and the car that stops in front of you actually has, (gasp) open seats.  You smile to yourself thinking how lucky you are, step in, sit down and at the exact moment the doors “bing” and start to close, you breathe in and realize why this car is so empty.  It smells of pee, or vomit or is 100 million degrees.  These moments are the only moments when I miss having a car.   

I love public transportation.  I love never having to drive myself.  I love the luxury of being able to read or text or play Candy Crush for my entire commute.  I love the fact that I can pop in my ear buds, blast my show tunes and zone out.   I also love that if I get stuck underground on a slow or malfunctioning train – everyone who has ever relied on the MTA will understand my tardiness.  It is a shared frustration and something we can bond over.

Twice – not once, but TWICE I sat down only to realize a second to late that I was sitting in a puddle of what I can only hope is water – clean bottled water that some very hygienic tourist accidentally spilled – the actuality is too gruesome to consider.  Even at those moments, I love public transportation.   

When there’s urine on the floor, or barf on a seat – I don’t begrudge the MTA.  Someone just really had to go and couldn’t wait another second.  But when the a/c isn’t working, or just not on?  I want to kill everyone.  There’s no need to shove 8 million people into tiny metal tubes and make us sweatier than we already are.  For the love of everything holy, please, please, please, please, keep the air on.

Oh, and on an unrelated note; I found my first gray hair yesterday.  Awesome.