I went to one of my three book groups tonight. This was the second time we’ve met in person since Covid started, and a couple of people there had missed our first in-person last month, so it was like a second first time.
I had to go to Brooklyn. By public transit. I love public transit. I can read a book, I don’t have to worry about other drivers, I don’t have to pay a small fortune for a taxi or car service since I live in upper Manhattan. Both Google Maps and MTA.info said it would take about an hour. But that’s in some ideal world.
I only had to wait a few minutes for a No. 1 train at 110th Street & Broadway. Two stops later, I got out to switch to an express, and a No. 2 train arrived as I walked across the platform. And I got a seat, so I could continue to read the book for one of my other book groups, which is meeting tomorrow at noon.
Two stops later, at 42nd Street—Times Square, I got out and walked up steps to get to what I hoped would be an N train. (The N train would take me to Brooklyn, where I could switch to an R train to get to my stop, Bay Ridge.) The N is an express, only now it’s not an express in Manhattan. It runs on the same track as the R train, in Manhattan. Here a Q train, another express, came by, then another Q train. I didn’t know if or where the Q train met up with the R train in Brooklyn, so I let them go by. On the local track an R train appeared. The R is a local train, so it will make every stop there is. I was going to need the R train eventually, so why not get on it now? Or should I wait for an N, that will eventually become an express? Maybe I should get on the train I know will get me where I want to go. And I got a seat on the R.
Two stops later, the R stopped — and stayed in the station. For more than 10 minutes. Occasionally, a voice came over the PA system, but I couldn’t make out what it was saying. I texted my book group that I being held in a station. Eventually, we got moving and made our way, local stop by local stop, to Brooklyn.
But wait, one more delay awaited me. At 59th Street, where I would have switched from the N express to the R local, I was informed that the R I was on was going to skip the station I needed. I would have to get off and wait for the next R train. It was only a couple of minutes, but I seemed destined to be as late as possible for my book group.
They did wait dinner for me, and I got a glass of wine. And now I know the right way to get to this area of Brooklyn.
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I’m participating in the 16th annual Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers. This is day 3 of the 31-day challenge. It’s not too late to make space for daily writing in a community that is encouraging, enthusiastic, and eager to read what you have to slice about. Join in!
