We are having really great weather today. The sun is bright, but the breeze keeps the temperature down. When it is nice like this I am sad that I have to spend so much time underground in the subway system. I don't think there is a day that I have not gotten on the subway since I have been here. Generally, I don't really hang out in my 'hood. When I am not at home I hop the C train, connect to the A and explore Soho, Chelsea, and wherever. And of course, on Monday through Friday, I go to work. In the four weeks that I have been using the subways, I haven't had too many mishaps or experiences. I got lost a little bit my first day and I saw my first rat(s) in a subway, but that was it--until last Friday.

On Friday I should have stayed late at work to get more done on a project. I didn't have too, but since I was meeting friends for dinner, I wanted to go home, freshen up, and drop off the milk I wanted to purchase on my way home. None of that agenda (except for meeting friends) was all that important, but I did it just the same. On my way back downtown I did my usual C to A train switch, and sat back for what should have been a quick trip downtown. Shortly before we got the 125th Street station, the train stopped. This is not unusual by any means, so I waited for the train to move while patting myself on the back for leaving my house an hour before I had to meet Erika and Sara. Soon the conductor's voice came on the loudspeaker to explain why we weren't going anywhere. I heard him say something to effect that the train just ahead of us in the station had broken down and there was an investigation. He assured us that we would be moving soon. After a few minutes the train did inch foward, but we had not travelled too far before we stopped again.

I glanced around at the annoyed faces around me, and I am certain that my eyes echoed the sentiments. Then the conductor came on again, and told us that if we wanted to leave the train, we had to move up to the first car. The cars were not overly full, so the cattle drive to the front was almost pleasant. Teen-age boys held the doors open, and passengers exchanged comments about the goings on in the subway system. I say it was almost pleasant, because an unfortunate man was not feeling too well and started to vomit. So we all had to dodge the splatter on the way to the next car. I felt sorry for him. If we hadn't had to stall, he could have purged in a less public place. As he retched, a few people giggled, but I think most people felt sorry for him. I assume so because New Yorkers don't have a problem voicing their opinions.

The herd stopped and waited. Soon the train shut down completely; both the air conditioner and lights went off. The emergency lights were illuminated so weren't totally in the dark. For a while no one moved, and no one knew what was going on. After five minutes or so I saw the people in front moving again, and we all headed towards the front. But not only did we have to go through the whole A train, we also had to go through the D that was stuck at the platform. As I emerged from the train a group of subway workers and a couple of detectives ushered us away from the platform. I wasn't sure what to do at this point. We were led away from the downtown platform, but I knew that other downtown trains stop at that station, so why couldn't I just get on one of those. I caught up with a lady that I exchanged a few crisis pleasantries with to get an idea of the situation. She informed me that the D train was not stalled because it broke down; it stalled because someone either jumped or was pushed in front of the moving train. She prayed that he was still alive. Oh. I was no longer annoyed about being late to meet my friends.

Obviously this is not the kind of story that you all want to read, I am sure. But sadly, this happens on the subway. A lot happens on the subways. People read, sleep, daydream, meet old friends, flirt with new ones, kiss, scold children, cry, laugh, sing, sell,beg, start their days, and sadly some end their days. When people are tense from the work week, tempers are short, and the accidental push can cause a near brawl. But there is always compassion. On that Friday before we stalled, I one-armed man walked through our train playing a few notes on a harmonica. He held on to the instrument with his limbless shoulder, and in the other he held a cup to collect change. He couldn't play very well--only three notes--but I think he collected more change than anyone else I've seen.

Saturday's lesson in compassion taught me a lot about judging others. On my way home from Chelsea Markets I decided to take the local C train. the ride is longer than the express A, but it takes me directly to my stop. After we left the station, I kind of regretted my car choice. There were a group of young ladies with strollers laughing and carrying on a little irreverently. One girl was particularly loud. She swore, laughed loudly, and was generally obnoxious. If a young guy sat down, she would sit next to him--closely--and would loudly flirt with the guy. A lot of times these boys would leave the train at the next station. I rolled my eyes, contemplated the welfare of their kids and futures. As did a few others on my side of the train car.

A few stops later a girl entered our car, and asked if anyone had anything to drink. She was thirsty, but also looked a little upset. I didn't have anything, and a few others pretended not to hear. The obnoxious girl did hear, and offered her a bottle of apple juice that had not been open. She wasn't loud when she offered the beverage. Her loud, bawdy tone and demeaner shifted as she graciously gave that girl that drink she needed. My opinion of that loud girl changed. She helped when no one else could or would.

The thirsty girl was indeed upset. She wiped away tears as she stood and drank her juice. But she didn't stay with us long; she decided to go to another car. On her way to the other car, that once-obnoxious girl also gave her a Kleenex to wipe her eyes. After that one girl left, the one who was loud continued to laugh, swear, and flirt with the young male passengers, but after seeing her kind gestures, I was more amused than annoyed.

Even though the subway smells bad, is crowded in the a.m., and has it's disturbing moments, I appreciate the subway. Not only because it costs less than gas. I also appreciate the glimpses of good human nature in this very dog eat dog world.