
It’s just one of those days

It’s just one of those days
You know how, sometimes, your day will start, and you feel quite assured that you know the direction you will be heading. And then something unexpected happens, and you get sent in a whole new direction? I am sure that has happened to you, and today it happened very much to me.
See, I was heading out to do the grocery shopping, which takes me down to the Trader Joe’s at Columbus and 93rd. It’s the closest one to our apartment in Harlem, and to get there I have to take a downtown local to 96th. I have been doing this for two and a half years now, so I have this route down. I know the best times to hit the stations to catch a train, and the best place to be on the platform to get in a relatively empty car.
Now, the governor last week lifted the mask mandate on public transportation, so there are no more COVID restrictions in the City. So, when I decided to go run my errand down to the 93rd Trader Joe’s, I thought that this would be a good opportunity to ride the subway mask-less and write about what my experience was like. You know, blog stuff.
I headed out for my local station. It was a cool morning that was also stupidly humid. I’m talking Miami or Houston at the height of Summer. Like you clothes just stick to you the second you walk out the door. I’m feeling a little gross, but hey, it’s the end of Summer around here. Fall will show up any day now.
I walk down the staircase from the street to get to the subway station, and there was a guy taking a leak on the stairs. He had no shame. He made eye contact with me and nodded. I don’t think he was drunk or high, just a rough around the edges gentleman who needed to relieve himself. But, being that he had no shame, his penis was on full display.
Sadly, a guy taking a wiz in NYC is a rather common observed action. It is truly frowned upon by society, but I have a feeling that public urination was a problem for the Dutch, and it will remain a problem for this town going forward. It’s annoying, and people like that guy do make NYC not the best place to live, but I wasn’t about to stop what I was doing to yell at the guy. I had places to be.
Anyway, I catch the train down to 96th, and get off. And as I am walking down the platform headed toward the stairs, unfortunately, there was a homeless person sleeping on the bench down there, with a granny cart filled with items and clothing. The Mayor is claiming they are cleaning up and helping the homeless that call the subway home, but they really aren’t. I just went along my way up the stairs.
And at 96th, if you don’t know, it’s a stacked station, meaning that the downtown tracks are on the lowest level. Above them are the uptown tracks with the turnstile entrance and MTA booth. From there you take the stairs up to the street.
I’m coming up the stairs to the uptown level, and I see lots of clothes spread on the uptown platform. My first thought is that these clothes must belong to the homeless guy sleeping on the bench. But when I get to the top of the stairs, and head for the turnstiles which lead to the MTA booth, and the street level stairs, there’s a naked guy on the other side of the turnstile in front of the MTA booth. And he’s a big naked guy. Taller than me. With his penis hanging out.
Oh, the guy in the MTA booth was doing a heroic job of saying, “Sir. Sir. Sir!” It was like a Meisner acting exercise, with the “sir” taking on a new inflection every time the MTA guy yelled.
And for a very fast second I thought, I could make it past this guys. I could squeeze through the turnstile, and avoid this guy touching me. I mean, he was naked, so I knew he wasn’t hiding anything.
Then New Yorker Matt reappeared. “Yeah, fuck this.” I started to turn to go back down the stairs for the other exit that was further down the platform.
But before I could get on my way, the naked guy yelled at me, “Could you thrown me my clothes?”
“No, man.” I said. Honestly, he could easily just jump the turnstile and get his clothes himself. I mean, he was already in trouble, skipping a fare was the least of his concerns.
So, yeah. I saw a whole lot of penis today. Wasn’t expecting that. And I would like to add, still not the weirdest situation I have been in on the subway.
(And, you should like this blog post. Also, feel free to share it, and if you have a story about the MTA, please share it in the comments.)
Balance still seems to be our issue. We are trying to make sure that we keep some sort of routine during the week including doing the online classes for the kid’s school, while I’m trying to work my job, and then there is the wife who is trying to hold the family structure together, and still looking for a job, though even she will admit that it feels like a fool’s errand at this point.
To keep that normalcy feeling, I did laundry today, which meant that I had to go out to the local laundromat. I was not excited about doing this, but just like grocery shopping, even the most mundane tasks now are sprinkled with the possibility of infection and disaster.
Our local laundry place did have signs up saying that only people doing laundry were allowed in, and to please not bring extra people. They even suggested washing/sanitizing your hands upon entering and leaving. And most importantly, don’t hang out while your clothes and washing/drying. I went first thing in the morning, right after they had cleaned the place, and by following their rules, it did feel like it was a clean and relative safe activity. Oh, I did wash the hell out of my hands when I got home each time. I’m still trying to be safe.
But what I did notice, and have noticed for the past few days on the streets of NYC, is that there is an undercurrent of aggression. The people who ask me for money aren’t taking no for an answer. I even had a guy ask me for a lighter, which I didn’t have, then he accused me of lying which spurting out obscenities at me. Even in line for groceries, it’s like people are looking for a problem to have with you.
I think I am beginning to see to toll that this is having on the psychology of the City.