The Commuter Connection
It amazes me how, in a city so big, you can still see the same people every day... and you don't even know them. For a while it was the Scientologist guy who hands flyers out outside my building, or the one-legged man that sleept outside the New York Times building for a while. Months ago someone asked me if I saw the same people on my commute everyday. 9:10am on a crowded A train? No way. Well, until recently.
I know I'm on time when I see that really pretty girl who stands on the platform by me. She's always dressed well, looks centered, listens to her iPod. I kind of want to be her. And when I see her I know I will be on time to work. She makes me feel good about myself. I want to be friends.
About every other day for the last couple weeks there has been the guy on the corner of 42nd and Broadway who I see when I leave work and head to the gym, and every time I see him he asks me if i like friendly black guys, and if I want to go home with him.
Curious, this city is. I have always wondered how many photos have me in the background, and lately I wonder how many strangers I see on a daily basis time and time again, but never notice.
The take-out woman knows my name. I say, "Suite 1314 and she says, hi Alli." My neighborhood laundromat knows me because they almost lost my laundry over Thanksgiving. For some reason this is still new news.
So many people, so little connection.... most of the time. I commute into the most insane part of the city every day. I have taught myself to notice no one, so when I do I wonder... "are we supposed to meet? Why are we looking at each other.. why now, why you, why is this..." in split second, and it's gone. And so are they.
The other morning I saw a boy on my train on the way to work. I remember he wore and hoodie and read a book and for some reason I couldn't stop starting at him. He glanced up a few times and I shyly looked away. (I'm SHY ok, I am! I know you don't believe me but I'm not one to smile or make contact with strangers that could lead to possible dates) He made me nervous, this boy, nervous pre-coffee. He got off at my stop and disappeared.
This past Wednesday, on my subway car, by the right door entrance - perfect car placement in order to ensure faster commute to work, most efficient - I struggled to keep my eyes open, and skipped from song to song on my ipod. The doors opened, I walked out, looking at the floor, and then up and straight into the eyes of the boy who - weeeks before - had been reading on my subway car and sneaking glances at me. Our eyes met, and that was that.
I have great faith in the world, great hope that moments like these, that connections like these, or deeper, stronger connections with other humans are made for certain reasons, and you are to act on them because sometimes things are just too random and too intense to ignore. They are there for a reason.
But in a city so big, so fast, so full, so overwhelming, it's so hard to not want to stop for a minute and backtrack and find that one person you felt something with and ask, who ARE you? I think this often, as I stand by the yellow phone at the 42nd street stop, on the platform waiting for the uptown A train. I spend so much time there, right in that spot, ready for the right door that will drop me off right in front of the stairway that will take my right to my apartment. Will I see someone there time and time again, or are they waiting just two cars down?
I know I'm on time when I see that really pretty girl who stands on the platform by me. She's always dressed well, looks centered, listens to her iPod. I kind of want to be her. And when I see her I know I will be on time to work. She makes me feel good about myself. I want to be friends.
About every other day for the last couple weeks there has been the guy on the corner of 42nd and Broadway who I see when I leave work and head to the gym, and every time I see him he asks me if i like friendly black guys, and if I want to go home with him.
Curious, this city is. I have always wondered how many photos have me in the background, and lately I wonder how many strangers I see on a daily basis time and time again, but never notice.
The take-out woman knows my name. I say, "Suite 1314 and she says, hi Alli." My neighborhood laundromat knows me because they almost lost my laundry over Thanksgiving. For some reason this is still new news.
So many people, so little connection.... most of the time. I commute into the most insane part of the city every day. I have taught myself to notice no one, so when I do I wonder... "are we supposed to meet? Why are we looking at each other.. why now, why you, why is this..." in split second, and it's gone. And so are they.
The other morning I saw a boy on my train on the way to work. I remember he wore and hoodie and read a book and for some reason I couldn't stop starting at him. He glanced up a few times and I shyly looked away. (I'm SHY ok, I am! I know you don't believe me but I'm not one to smile or make contact with strangers that could lead to possible dates) He made me nervous, this boy, nervous pre-coffee. He got off at my stop and disappeared.
This past Wednesday, on my subway car, by the right door entrance - perfect car placement in order to ensure faster commute to work, most efficient - I struggled to keep my eyes open, and skipped from song to song on my ipod. The doors opened, I walked out, looking at the floor, and then up and straight into the eyes of the boy who - weeeks before - had been reading on my subway car and sneaking glances at me. Our eyes met, and that was that.
I have great faith in the world, great hope that moments like these, that connections like these, or deeper, stronger connections with other humans are made for certain reasons, and you are to act on them because sometimes things are just too random and too intense to ignore. They are there for a reason.
But in a city so big, so fast, so full, so overwhelming, it's so hard to not want to stop for a minute and backtrack and find that one person you felt something with and ask, who ARE you? I think this often, as I stand by the yellow phone at the 42nd street stop, on the platform waiting for the uptown A train. I spend so much time there, right in that spot, ready for the right door that will drop me off right in front of the stairway that will take my right to my apartment. Will I see someone there time and time again, or are they waiting just two cars down?
posted by AllDeTime at 9:12 PM
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