I’m on the number 5 headed home when I hear, we’ll be moving shortly…there’s traffic up ahead.
Shortly turned into close to an hour forcing me to be patient, not an easy virtue when you’re underground, especially since the next stop was Grand Central, or terrorist central as it’s more commonly known. This is where you see the military with M-16s and canines called Sarge and Skipper.
What’s a thin girl to do when she has no say in the matter? Get out her trusty pad and ballpoint to observe her fellow passengers who weren’t taking the delay as well as she was.
A Latino woman with hoop earrings you could jump through said, “Ah jus’ hope noboda’ jumped in fronna’ the damned train ageen’.” An old black man shook his head in agreement while blowing his nose like a tuba. Yes, compassion, along with snot, ran high on the number 5.
A young girl in an orange bandanna took out a baguette with what smelled like ham deciding to have lunch, while three tourists consulted their maps as if there might be an alternate route they could take. Perhaps the car had a sunroof that opened so one could catch a bus, ya know, like at Epcot.
We’ll be moving shortly, said the Pinnochio of conductors since now even I was getting antsy. A panhandler deciding to make hay of the situation, tooled through the car requesting spare change. What he should have asked for was a belt, since his pants kept falling.
Finally we started to move only to stop again before proceeding like we were now riding a turtle. By the time it pulled into Grand Central we could have easily been in Chicago.
My paranoia inspiring me to get off that train, and rather than waiting for another, made my way up onto the street, where despite the cold climes, hoofed it safely home.
SB
Nobody likes an unforeseen delay to their journey. I wonder if our reaction is out of all proportion to the actual inconvenience engendered? Lucky you’re a writer, who can put the time to artistic utility. 😉
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For a time at least. I’m claustrophobic so being underground gets iffy for me. It’s a wonder I ride the trains at all. But the bus is so slow. I’m older when I finally get to my stop. 😳
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In this frigid weather I hope you were dressed for hoofing. I’ve got to run now to sub for three days at Graphic Arts. I have an art background, so it’s fun!
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I love that you teach Skinny. Teachers are Kings and Queens in my book…🌈
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My advice to anyone who wants to teach anything is not to preach and make sure the students know you care about them. High schoolers don’t appreciate being called kids. They react much better to ‘ladies and gentlemen’. The boys might snicker when I first call them gentlemen, but then subconsiously try to live up to the moniker.
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I love that. And it’s so self-esteem building to be treated like Ladies and Gentlemen.
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People watching. Glad to know it’s still alive. Not enough people do it.
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Greetings Frank. I like the French term for people watching. You’re referred to as a flaneur meaning stroller or saunterer. It’s great for one’s art. 😊
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Well stated.
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I’m filled with useless trivia…beware. 🙂
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Me too!
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I’ll bet you’re a big reader. Am I right?
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Nope.
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Yet you say you know lots of trivia. Did I get that wrong?
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Ding ding ding … correct … I like trivia … I take in a lot of info, and tend to remember trivial stuff.
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So that’s where it comes from. Excellent!
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When I want to dive into a topic, I also like research.
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Well that’s a form of reading.
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Agree … I’m just a big reader of books. When I do, it’s nonfiction on a topic I want to know more about.
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I too prefer nonfiction. Obsessed with learning always sorry I never went to school. History is what floats my boat. Can’t get enough.
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Glad we are on the same wavelength. 🙂
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It’s funny, because here in Quebec, there is another meaning: when you are called a flâneur, you are being called lazy; you’re not even strolling, you are lounging – Je flâne aujourd’hui means, I am lounging around today, basically doing nothing. 🙂
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If you look it up, lounger is listed along with stroller and saunterer. It’s an appealing term. To be free to observe. Love that 👀
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Yes, I know. And I actually DID look it up (I’m a stickler for stuff like that) because I wonder how a word’s definition gets distorted over time, or in different cultures.
I much prefer it’s real meaning because I love to saunter and stroll…
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Me too.
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Maybe one days we shall “flâne” the streets of New Yawk 🙂
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Armed 🙃
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Oh come now… that is not necessary!!
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You’re right. I was being unnecessarily sarcastic. Sorry. Noo Yawk is like Oz. How’s that? 😴
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Maybe a tad… the three times I’ve been, I’ve enjoyed myself and felt perfectly safe… except that time we thought we heard a gunshot, which turned out to be a vehicle that hit another as it was being chased by the cops… ahem.
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It’s not Iowa, that’s for sure, but it will always have an edge, but a cultural one. I’ve lived here for so long I’ve come to understand her many moods. To quote Teddy Roosevelt, you have to walk softly but carry a big stick. Noo Yawk Noo Yawk. 🙄
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Not that I’ve ever been to Iowa… 😉 But yes, she definitely has an edge.
Great quote! 🙂
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Why do I think that only YOU would know the names of both police dogs in Grand Central?
Scott
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Well, you’re not supposed to pet them but, I try anyway. They’re German Shepherds with the handsomest faces. Like movie stars, with tails and a martial arts degree. 🙂
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I have never been on the subway but if I was and that happened I would be a mess of anxiety!🙀
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One can’t help it, since you’re stuck. Not the greatest feeling. sigh
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SB,
I tend to get all out of sorts in closed spaces. The idea of being a vessel inside a vessel inside another vessel . . it’s a tad much. I always feel like a human Matryoshka doll in those instances. I have to totally focus on something else.
Kudos to your impersonations, your decision making and your hoofing it home.
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I hoofed it alright. I made skid marks. I like your description of multiple vessels. Like nesting dolls. 😴
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That’s how I feel.
When I played football in high school, I was never the guy at the bottom of a pile. You know why? Because I would have separated both my shoulders first. I got into my share of fights when there was a scramble for the ball, thinking it better to get tossed from the game than to be lost under that crush.
Hoofing it is an expression my folks used lots. They busted their humps and they hoofed it.
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I always think of tap dancers. It’s tye Fred Astaire in me. 🤭
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To borrow from an old Clark novel . . SB loves writing, loves to dance.
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Some of us dance, just with a limp. Anne Lamott quote.
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Paulo Coelho said dancing is the luxury of being you. So it’s not really how you bring it, it’s THAT you bring it.
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Another quote I’ve never heard.
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I felt as if it fit your dance move, so there’s that.
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And there’s that. 😊
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Coo.
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Reread your football metaphor. Poetic license on my part. My Sonny Corleone comes from having nutty parents that could set the house on fire on a whim. Like Sonny, I always take the stairs. 😳
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Another child of dysfunction. I’d like to think it prepared us in the event complete anarchy broke out.
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Love the word anarchy. Says it all.
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It kinda does.
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I just love words. When Hicks was bored he’d read the dictionary. He taught me how they change one’s outlook. 😊
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I love that.
Sometimes I’ll read a word and then repeat it over and over again until it sounds alien to me. And it’s like, I’ve peeled back the layers of a word I always knew and found something else.
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They certainly grab my attention. Woids. 🌝
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Oh thin goil, you done said it. Those woids . . .
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WOIDS WOIDS WOIDS…NOTHING BUT WOIDS. Isn’t that from My Fair Lady? Sort of…:)
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Hamlet, no? Isn’t it the irony of his loving to talk and yet, he rails on the spoken word?
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I dunno….woids woids woids.
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SB, yawh woids rock.
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You’re funny for breakfast. It’s like a slow leak. 🧐
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Funny is an important part of a balanced breakfast, yanno . .
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I’ll take mine over easy, thank you very much.
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I’m scrambled, as per.
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I love eggs. Makes me think of old time diners with jukeboxes in every booth. Waitresses named Sal and Mrs. Johnson and grape jelly that came in little matchbook size packets.
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I LOVED those little grape jelly packets! Spread them on toast with some butter. And cawfee . . . don’t forget the cawfee.
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With the little creamers. Hairnets, the smell of bacon. The bowl of mints by the cash register when you went to pay. Sigh
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I can feel it!
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I had to laugh that the panhandler should have asked for a belt. That hit my funny bone.
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First things first after all. Fashion before funding. 😴
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LOL!
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My silly salutes your silly…:)
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Talk about using the situation to one’s advantage: You, as an opportunity to people-watch, a muse, if you will (while you forget you are stuck and try not to hyperventilate), for a future post; the panhandler to try his best at collecting some extra coin – this being quite smart, because, unlike the Squeegee guys (do you have them in NY?), the lights ain’t gonna change and the cars can’t drive off…
I would have hoofed it too, if it was withing a decent proximity to my destination.
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I don’t know if we still have Squeegee guys. That’s a good question. I remember them with their dirty rags. Oy. Like the term muse. New York is a plethora of material if you pay attention. There’s always a sideshow to be had. Nice of you to read my piece. 🙂
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Come to think of it, I haven’t seen one in Montreal for a good long while. Dirty rags and plain water, like that’s gonna work.
New York must have more than a plethora to pluck from as muse. I need to go back.
I enjoyed your style. I’m gonna be back for more…🙂
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You flatter me. 🤭
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With good reason. 😊
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I agree, never a fan of subways, or tunnels. Glad you got home safely. It is always interesting to watch people on a train, isn’t it?
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It is since you’re intimate whether you want to be or not.
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The number 5 sounded colorful if not impatient.
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Always colorful, like the circus riding the train. 😳
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You know you’re a seasoned rider when your first reaction to a delay is “I hope someone didn’t jump.” I remember being stuck coming home when someone jumped and thought “Ugh, you couldn’t do this before work?” Not one of my better moments, but really, why inconvenience all of us?
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New Yorkers are tough. After September 11th, what’s one more jumper. Pollyanna of course is always thrown for a loop, but she’s in a minority. sigh
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Thanks for sharing!
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