During this ride, I noticed a fellow fare, a female, and immediately I said to myself: "That girl looks like Shelley Duvall." Shelley Duvall is as unattractive as they come, especially in The Shining. Only kidding. Her most unappealing moments come during the scenes where she is hysterical. Other than that, she is simply divine.
Anyway, this female fare was sitting directly across from me on the G-Train. [As is always the case, the G-Train likes to spilt the service up between two trains on the weekends, and now even during the week (late night/early morning), in order to save the city a few bucks (conspiracy!). I'm used to it so it doesn't bother me as much as it should. Plus, that isn't even much of an interruption. The G-Train's lack of consistency is its malfunction.] She looked confused from the beginning---Metropolitan. The more stops we made, the more her expression transformed. By the time we hit Myrtle-Willoughby, that poor child was almost in tears. This was when I made the Duvall connection.
She was a bit hysterical and maybe scared for her life. I thought maybe she had lost a loved one recently or just really wasn't enjoying how things were going for her. I've been there. I think I might be there as I write. But this isn't bout me. It is about our distressed Duvall look-alike.
What spelled "s.o.s" to me? Her gazes across the faces of her fellow passengers. She was a stranger in an unknown burrough, I felt, and she just needed a little direction, a little help.
We hit the Bed-Nostrand stop, which is the last stop when service is interrupted. To continue service further South, one must exit the train and walk across the platform. How was she to know this? The conductors apparently have the option to decide whether or not they want to inform the passengers of what's going on.
I didn't have to walk across the platform. I could've just trekked the few blocks. But for her, I chose to walk across the plat. I entered the train and sat down while she stood directly across from me, looking very nervous, still searching desperately for guidance, but too afraid to engage. I took my headphones off and made eye-contact to let her know that I was very interested in knowing what her f**king deal was...
"I just need to get to Fulton." she said.
"Stay here."
She took a seat and came down a bit. I wanted to tell her to breathe, because that is what I do, but I'd already done enough. I gave her everything she needed. As I made my exit I looked at her and informed her that she had only a few stops to go, and that she would then wake up, and her nightmare would be over. She thanked me and then she was gone.
It is a big city. But it isn't that big. And not too intimidating if I may say so. All you have to do is breathe.
She was a bit hysterical and maybe scared for her life. I thought maybe she had lost a loved one recently or just really wasn't enjoying how things were going for her. I've been there. I think I might be there as I write. But this isn't bout me. It is about our distressed Duvall look-alike.
What spelled "s.o.s" to me? Her gazes across the faces of her fellow passengers. She was a stranger in an unknown burrough, I felt, and she just needed a little direction, a little help.
We hit the Bed-Nostrand stop, which is the last stop when service is interrupted. To continue service further South, one must exit the train and walk across the platform. How was she to know this? The conductors apparently have the option to decide whether or not they want to inform the passengers of what's going on.
I didn't have to walk across the platform. I could've just trekked the few blocks. But for her, I chose to walk across the plat. I entered the train and sat down while she stood directly across from me, looking very nervous, still searching desperately for guidance, but too afraid to engage. I took my headphones off and made eye-contact to let her know that I was very interested in knowing what her f**king deal was...
"I just need to get to Fulton." she said.
"Stay here."
She took a seat and came down a bit. I wanted to tell her to breathe, because that is what I do, but I'd already done enough. I gave her everything she needed. As I made my exit I looked at her and informed her that she had only a few stops to go, and that she would then wake up, and her nightmare would be over. She thanked me and then she was gone.
It is a big city. But it isn't that big. And not too intimidating if I may say so. All you have to do is breathe.
No comments:
Post a Comment