I shoved someone today. I placed my hands on a man and moved him, with force, in a direction out of my way. It’s the Express 2 Train Downtown, and we as commuting New Yorkers are fighting to get on it.
Time check – 6:25 pm Monday January 30, 2017 at Times Square–42nd Street subway station
I have 7 minutes to make the 6:33 pm express train to Babylon and I am determined to make it. My new Michael Kors booties have blistered my feet, and I only ate lunch today. So, to say I’m “in a mood” is an understatement and an attitude I’m sure my mother will greatly appreciate when I get home.
The expression “hell on earth” has been applied to places like the DMV or standing in line at Chipotle. But you truly have not experienced hell until you have ridden on the Long Island Rail Road, or as its victims call it, the LIRR.
The LIRR is my daily one hour commute in and out of New York City. That means my work day automatically starts two hour earlier and ends two hours later than my fellow coworker. Oh, and how can I forget the 20 minute subway ride? For a grand total of two hours and forty minutes, I am sitting on a train every.single.day.
In the winter standing on the platform feels like enduring the Arctic Tundra and in the summer the subway smells like boiling body excretions. Sounds intriguing, right? All of this is to pay the bills, chase my dreams, and build my resume. Also, it’s to hopefully stay on my two year plan of moving out my parents’ house.
Time check – 6:29 p.m. Penn Station (where I shoved the man)
I finally make it to Penn with three minutes to spare before my chariot home rolls out of the station. I get off the subway and am herded like cattle into a tiny staircase (in heels, mind you) trying to make the train.
A man with a Swiss army back pack, a navy beanie, and glasses is walking in front of me at an infuriatingly slow pace. I look beyond him and see an opening in the crowd – with my name on it. I shoved him. I grabbed his backpack and physically moved him out of my way. I feel his eyes glare at me as I pass by him, but as I said, I’m in a mood and I frankly just don’t care. I am not proud of my action, and I like to think it wasn’t an “aggressive” push. It was just kinda a “move out of my way” nudge so that he gets the hint that he is equalling the speed of a dying turtle.
I finally get to the stairs and hold onto the shoulder of the woman in front of me to insure I don’t break my ankle (that would definitely cause me to miss my train).
I get down the stairs to the subway turnstile, and as I pass through I hear a woman yell at me, “Hey! I just swiped my card! C’mon!!”
Sorry not sorry, honey. This is rush hour.
Time check 6:32 p.m. LIRR terminal
I look at the call board and find “Massapequa Park Track 19” – time to hustle.
Side note, at this point the blisters from my shoes are so bad that I am wobbling, but I am so close to the finish line that I have to push through.
I find the track, rush down the stairs and start searching the train car for an empty seat.
Time check 6:33 East River Tunnel
I made it.