Commuting to Brooklyn

My alarm goes off at 7:00 am. With little hesitation I slam my entire hand down on top of my alarm clock hoping to hit the large ‘snooze’ button. This continues in nine minute increments for three or four more times. By 7:36 I’m finally out of bed. I’m tired and my eyes are feeling heavy. I shower but the water doesn’t wake me up as I hoped it would. I get dressed and struggle to come up with something that I can pass off as breakfast or more importantly something that will help liven me up a bit. At 8:10 I am, or at least I should be, ready to leave. I’ve got my lightly packed messenger bag around my shoulder. I get on my garbage-picked bike that I painted gold and pedal about a mile to the train station hoping not to break a sweat during my first public appearance of the day.People are scattered along the platform seemingly desperate to avoid conversation or even eye contact with each other. It arrives at 8:21 on the dot. I board the train and look for an empty two seater. Towards the end of the ride someone is forced to sit next to me because the train is full. They sit down with great caution making sure that our arms don’t touch. At 8:54 I get off and transfer to another train bound for New York Penn Station.

I arrive there at 9:13. Hundreds of us get off of the train and bottle neck up tiny staircases leading to the concourse. I’m constantly aware of my surroundings; making sure my bag isn’t hitting anyone or that I’m not stepping on the heel of the person in front of me. I head towards the subway which is inconveniently located on the opposite end of the station. I’m dodging thousands of people coming towards me from every direction. I walk briskly and try my best to avoid running straight into someone. I blast through the turnstile and get on the ‘2’ or the ‘3’ train headed downtown. It tends to be crowded which means I’m probably leaning against someone during the ride. I consciously place my hand on the pole so that I won’t touch someone elses hand. I utilize all of the muscles in my legs and my one arm to make sure that I won’t fall into someone when the train jerks its way out of the station. I weasel my way out of the car at the first stop and carefully walk through the crowds of people commuting to Manhattan from Brooklyn where I am headed.

I get on my final mode of transport, the Brooklyn bound L train. It is empty. It is always empty. I sit down and sprawl out a bit. My heightened sense of alertness cools down as I head towards my final destination.

I wake up the next day to do it all over again.

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3 responses to “Commuting to Brooklyn

  1. Pingback: Letter From The Editor: Taking The World With Us. | (Sense)story Perception·

  2. Pingback: Birthday, Birthday, Birthday! | (Sense)story Perception·

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