Transportation Adaptation

Toni takes the wheel today:

Highlighted in our lives this week has been transportation. Now that we have lived here for almost seven months, our current brag is how we haven’t driven a car for that long and how happy that makes us. We are not kidding or exaggerating here. First, we have considerably reduced our carbon foot print, second, public transportation and cabs are economical and third, we can have a drink or two without endangering other beings. As we have grown accustomed to this lifestyle change, our courage to take more and more complex routes has increased.

As of this past week I now commute along with the throngs of other train passengers to my new job populating a website for the International Trademark Association in Midtown. I leave the apartment at 8:30, enter the subway station that is steps away from the front of our apartment building. After no more than a two minute wait, I board the B or D train and two stops later I am beneath Bryant Park. Up a flight of stairs, a two minute walk down an echoing hallway filled with the sounds of a busker playing classical accordion, and down another flight of stairs leading to the 7 train. One short stop later, I disembark and walk to the end of the platform, up a flight of stairs, then up an escalator, and find myself at 42nd Street and 3rd Avenue directly across the entrance of the Chrysler Building. I cross 3rd Avenue and walk one door south to my building and ride the elevator up to the 10th floor and I am at my desk by 8:50. I find this routine less stressful than driving on the interstate or parking a car.

We attended two small concerts this weekend far from our neighborhood. Friday night’s venue was in the East Village at a private apartment on East 8th Street for a house concert. Since it was on the East side, I did not want to backtrack from work, so instead of reversing the morning’s route, I got on the 6 Train. This required some trekking down unfamiliar corridors packed with commuters rushing home. Diligently following the signs without error, I boarded the train and five stops later debarked onto the South side of 14th Street at Union Square. Walking a half a block east I boarded the 14D crosstown bus, taking care not to board the 14A. The bus, packed with commuters and lodged in rush-hour traffic, required patience. It stopped at every avenue and then finally turned onto Avenue C putting me just a block from our agreed meeting place to have dinner before the show. I entered the Royale restaurant and ordered a Brooklyn Lager which felt really good after the 45 minute commute and waited for Bill. I made it at our appointed time, but Bill was not so lucky.

Meanwhile the scene switches to Bill:

I left the apartment a little more than an hour before meeting time. I went directly to the M7 bus stop, got in position, then I went to get my Metrocard in hand. It was not in its usual spot. I frantically flipped through every part of my wallet but I knew immediately that it was fruitless to continue, all I had was an old card with twenty cents left on it. Toni was going to throw it away but I kept it figuring I could put more money on it if needed. There was no time to go back to the apartment. Okay, think! I can use money but the bus won’t take paper…only coins. So I went into the restaurant there, Rosie O’Grady’s, to try to get some change but it was Happy Hour on a Friday and I couldn’t even get an employee to make eye contact with me. Okay, screw it, I would just spring for a cab. I went back out to the sidewalk and looked up the avenue just as the bus came barreling down to the stop. I impulsively just hopped in as the door opened and put my depleted card in the slot thinking perhaps the driver wouldn’t notice. It popped back like normal but the driver said, “That’s no good.” I said, “Oh sh…” and stood there for a second before the driver said, “Oh, just sit down.” I thought that worked pretty well. But I still had to transfer to another bus and I didn’t think I could pull that stunt again. It was easy to do once because I really didn’t know what would happen when I put the card in but to do it a second time would require me to act surprised and I didn’t think I could fake that.

After getting dropped off at the next bus stop I glanced around for a likely spot to get change for the fare. There was a DVD store right there with the door propped open and it didn’t look busy at all. I went in and noticed that only the front ten feet or so was a regular DVD store. The rest of the place was all adult films with signs hanging above all the aisles with categories a bit like a grocery store. I definitely did not want to make a purchase to get change. It took a second or two to figure out where the cashier was. He was seated in this boxed in area that was about four feet higher than the floor level. Apparently he also served as security from his perch. As I laid out my plight and my request I felt somewhat like I was in a courtroom approaching the judge in his lofty bench with my hat in hand. It took a little extra explanation but once the cashier finally understood he was sympathetic and gave me the change I needed. I quickly returned to my spot on the sidewalk, got my bus and wound up being just a few minutes late.

I have truly enjoyed learning to adapt to all the differences of living in Manhattan but perhaps none as much as learning the ins and outs of New York transportation. Old dogs learning new tricks.

We were this close to Lanois

And now back to Toni:

The next day we wanted to see an artist who we have admired for over twenty-five years, but have never had the opportunity to see live. Daniel Lanois, a Canadian musician and producer (best known for his work with U2), was playing a free 30 minute acoustic set at the Rockwood Music Hall on Allen Street, a half block south of Houston on the Lower East Side. If we didn’t get there at 5:00, we could miss the whole show, so we set out by bus at 3:30. We caught the M57 going cross-town at 57th and 6th Avenue. Again, it stopped at every Avenue and was caught in typical NYC crosstown traffic so the trip to 2nd Avenue took more time than we had allotted. As the minutes drew nearer I grew more and more anxious that the appointed time would not be reached. We transferred to a second bus that would take us down Second Avenue and drop us off at Allen and Houston, but not without more delay. We started to board the bus, but the driver would’t let us and our fellow travelers on board because we had not obtained a ticket at the kiosk. What the hell was that?? We turned to the left and there were new machines where you place your bus card into them, and a select bus ticket prints out. It turned out this change just took effect and was only on this one bus route. So this was not only new to us but to everyone else boarding with us. We did this but it made us miss the bus, but within a minute another bus pulled up. We showed our printouts to the driver and came aboard. This ride down the avenue was a little faster and we arrived at the Rockwood with just five minutes before show time, but never fear the band was still 10 minutes late.

My anxiety was as usual a waste of energy, but next time I have vowed to take the F train like Madonna if I am going to that part of town again.

Madonna was recently seen taking the subway here