This summer might be the hottest I can remember in the great city of New York.
I am thankful this morning that despite missing my subway there was one just a minute behind it.
If you don't know what it's like to stand on a subway platform in the summer, let me tell you a little bit about it:
Today, specifically, walking out the door felt like stepping into a pre-heating oven, thereabouts 125 humid-degrees.
As you approach your subway station, you realize you've been moseying and pick up the pace only to find the dreaded "yep, you've missed the train" crowd pouring out of the subway in the opposite direction you're going. As you take the steps further into Dante's lair, you pray to any God that can hear you, that a) the train is being held in the station and you can still get on it or b) the countdown clock might say the next one is just 2 minutes away.
In my case this morning, I heard my fate-to-wait when the train announced "stand clear of the closing doors" right before I hit the last step into the station. I glanced up at the countdown clock, lit up in green digitized words and numbers, first I see a glowing "6 min" and think "please, no" and then flashes "1. Brooklyn Bridge 2 Min" I wipe the sweat from my brow (just figuratively because there's no use in doing that as I will just continue to drip sweat anyway), swipe my Metro Card and walk briskly to my spot on the platform. The oncoming train's lights illuminate the tunnel sooner than expected and I am thankful for a seat in an air conditioned car. And now, I'm writing this.
LET US DISCUSS SHOULD I HAVE LEFT A MOMENT LATER WHAT MY LIFE WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE:
Stepping down into the subway on any hot day, no matter the temperature, and having to wait more than two minutes for a train feels like I'm Gretel in the witch's oven, pre-heat buzzer beeping at 500 degrees. Bitch is baking some quick cookies that are about to burn. And I don't mean I'll get out of here lightly browned and ready to eat. Imma be a smelly, sweat dripping mess who just took a shower but needs another and prays she remembered to put deodorant on.
With that said, my train stop is next. Come visit New York. In the fall, winter or spring.
I am thankful this morning that despite missing my subway there was one just a minute behind it.
If you don't know what it's like to stand on a subway platform in the summer, let me tell you a little bit about it:
Today, specifically, walking out the door felt like stepping into a pre-heating oven, thereabouts 125 humid-degrees.
As you approach your subway station, you realize you've been moseying and pick up the pace only to find the dreaded "yep, you've missed the train" crowd pouring out of the subway in the opposite direction you're going. As you take the steps further into Dante's lair, you pray to any God that can hear you, that a) the train is being held in the station and you can still get on it or b) the countdown clock might say the next one is just 2 minutes away.
In my case this morning, I heard my fate-to-wait when the train announced "stand clear of the closing doors" right before I hit the last step into the station. I glanced up at the countdown clock, lit up in green digitized words and numbers, first I see a glowing "6 min" and think "please, no" and then flashes "1. Brooklyn Bridge 2 Min" I wipe the sweat from my brow (just figuratively because there's no use in doing that as I will just continue to drip sweat anyway), swipe my Metro Card and walk briskly to my spot on the platform. The oncoming train's lights illuminate the tunnel sooner than expected and I am thankful for a seat in an air conditioned car. And now, I'm writing this.
LET US DISCUSS SHOULD I HAVE LEFT A MOMENT LATER WHAT MY LIFE WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE:
Stepping down into the subway on any hot day, no matter the temperature, and having to wait more than two minutes for a train feels like I'm Gretel in the witch's oven, pre-heat buzzer beeping at 500 degrees. Bitch is baking some quick cookies that are about to burn. And I don't mean I'll get out of here lightly browned and ready to eat. Imma be a smelly, sweat dripping mess who just took a shower but needs another and prays she remembered to put deodorant on.
With that said, my train stop is next. Come visit New York. In the fall, winter or spring.
