Thursday morning.
33°F. Feels like 23°F.
Out the door at 4:50 am to catch the 5:01.
Dark.
Directly across the street: new Neighbors. Young and DINK. First things first. No curtains up, yet bright, white lights were carefully hand strung and evenly distributed across their bushes. The evergreens throw shadows on the front door. I pause. What was that? That softening, that load lightening ever so slightly. ‘Tis the season.
I board train. No open seats. At 5:01 a.m.? Conductor announces that the train is one car short and apologizes. $15.25 for a one-way Peak ticket to Grand Central (Yes, Peak at 5:01 am.) $15.25 and you get the privilege of standing. And standing for 55 minutes. Sigh.
I stand in the aisle, as the vestibule overflows with commuters. I set my bag down between my legs, grab the seat support, being careful not to brush against the passenger sitting in the seat. I hover over him. He feels it. Nobody likes this.
We’re five minutes into the commute. I’m restless. I’m tired. I’m anxious. I’m not going to make it. Continue reading “Riding Metro North. One Car Short.”