squeaky

I have developed the habit of running for the train whether or not I see it coming. This is partly because I am always late, partly because I think I have an idea of when the train is supposed to come, partly because it makes me nervous to walk towards the elevated train at a perpendicular angle and to be able to see the train as it would arrive in the station and leave the station without me on it. From the moment I leave my building, my only view that is in front of my face is the perpendicular view of the elevated subway and the vision that goes before me is that of the train pulling out of the station and the fear that engenders in me is that of me having to wait, impatiently, and the thoughts that produces are those of re-enactments of my morning minus various increasingly inane-seeming moments that without which would have landed me leisurelyly at the train, and thus at work on time.

In running, it occurs to me that the AM newspaper lady stands sort of blocking the staircase and that annoys me. It occurs to me that I am faster going up the stairs than most people and it annoys me that people don’t instinctively organize themselves into fast lanes and slow lanes, etc. I am fully aware that I am projecting onto others my own dissatisfaction with being lazy around the house in the morning. Anyway, I got up the stairs on time and people were standing around in the indoor area – not even trying to get on the train, just hanging out by the turnstyles and talking. In my haste, I brushed up against one of them as I tried to get in through the turnstyle: “Hey, it’s just a train” he said. And, maybe he was right. I excused myself and wound up getting onto the platform just as the train was coming into the station. I sat down and a guy who had been employing my same running strategy, but 10 paces back, swung onto the train. He was good though because he had to buy a metrocard too, I noticed. We acknowledged each other.

For my efforts, I was treated to a train in bad need of a tune-up, or maybe just even a tune of any sort. The bell that indicates that the door is about the close sounded sick and/or hoarse. The tone was fragmented and dull. At 168th street a lot of people got on, I guess, and the doors were having trouble closing whether because they were closing onto people and their bag straps or loose, flowing clothing – or for other reasons. The doors opened and closed several times and the bell rang so often in its raspy way that it annoyed me. I felt that it mocked me. After that, there was a high pitched noise that emanated from the ceiling. I couldn’t tell if I was imagining it or not because everyone on the train was acting like nothing strange or annoying was happening because they are all New Yorkers and have to endure things like ear-splitting noises on their way to work just to prove that they are living in a place that challenges them or, better yet, simply to prove that they have something to endure. Or something. I alternated between thinking that it was a noise that was coming from inside of me and thinking that it was a noise from the ceiling of the train. It didn’t stop and I was thinking about the noise a lot and never let it get to the point of simply becoming background noise that I would just see as silence. I soon began having a headache and feeling nauseous.

So, at 96th street, it was no difficult decision for me to take to get off the train and wait for the express. However, the express didn’t come until after three more locals passed by 96th street. After I got off the 1 at 96t, I poked my head into the car next to the one I had been on only to find that there was no high pitched noise. There wasn’t.

In other news, the 1 train has been running on weekends over the past couple of weekends. I am not too excited about this, rather, I feel it is a cynical poly taken by the MTA to run trains on the weekends during the holiday season for the sake of getting people more easily to their shopping destinations and to impress tourists. I think it is a fact that it is why the trains are running on the weekends now. After those two or so months of work being done on the uptown stations, we have 207th and 215th with patches of roof missing, and that’s the only noticeable change that’s been made. I prefer to take the A train from Isham street rather than partake in the MTA’s cynical charade. Anna would prefer the 1 train weren’t running so she could get home easier from Piper’s Kilt because when the 1 train isn’t running the shuttle bus leaves pretty frequently from outside Piper’s Kilt (more or less) and when there is no shuttle bus she had to wait for the Bx7 bus, which took hours upon hours to arrive.