I was waiting 4 the Blue line El outside Rush Hospital in Chicago to take me to O’Hare airport and back to NYC. It was a beautiful day, I was reading Dave Eggers’ heartbreaking work of staggering genius, and I had 4 hours b4 my flight was scheduled to leave, so I didn’t really mind that despite a Pink Line train arriving nearly every 10
Ironically, the Blue Line EL doesn't stop at Rush Hospital until "Rush" hour.
minutes,I had not seen a Blue line 4 what had to be over an hour. I still hadn’t eached the point of agitation, when the conductor of one of the pink line trains, leaned his head out the window to ask me if I was waiting 4 the Blue Line (I assume by the site of my luggage). I looked up from my book to nod, and he in4med me that the Blue line doesn’t stop there until rush hour, but I could take the Pink to Lake and transfer there. His eagerness to see me hop on reminded me of the Polar Express conductor. Any New Yorker would agree that this would never happen in the depths of the Subway tunnel, where the conductors will close the doors on you, and leave you to the rats and the homeless.
Fast 4ward 10 hours…Halfway home from JFK Airport, I was waiting on the L train to leave the 8th Avenue station and race me home across the lower east side (Just hours b4 I waited over 4 the “El” in Chicago.. It’s probably only mildly uncommon).
Out of nowhere a young college-aged girl, stormed into the train, clearly upset, and slammed herself
"L" did not stand 4 "love at first sight"
down into the seat directly across from me. She was trying her best to fight back the tears, shutting her eyes tightly. The subway is a cold place and tends to push you towards the extreme, amplifying whatever you may be feeling at the time to the nth degree. And at last she succumbed… Niagara Falls burst through her eyes, and she sobbed uncontrollably. I couldn’t decide whether to say anything. After probably 2 minutes of angel vs demon deliberation across my shoulders, the angel won…
“Is everything okay?”
Her teary eyes slowly met mine, she was cute there was no doubt about it. And in what I can only describe as a sea change of emotion brought on by psychological imbalance or the gravitational pull of the moon, the puppy dog sadness vanished from her face. “DON’T TALK TO ME!!” she screamed, and jumped to her feet storming out of my life and into another car.
Tags: blue line train, brown line, dave eggers a heartbreaking work of staggering genius, o'hare airport, pink line train, subway, The "El" Train Chicago, The "L" Train NYC
