MTA, I shake my fist at you
It usually takes me 40 or 45 minutes to get to work. Thursday morning the trip took me over an hour and a half.
Step 1: The Bus
As it was about 3 degrees (plus wind chill!) and snowy outside, I decided it would be smart to take the bus to the subway. Obviously, I was not the only one with this idea. When I got to the stop, the line stretched down the block and around the corner. But there were two buses waiting, so I figured it would move quickly. I was one of the first people on the second bus. I got a seat and everything. I had to wait for the rest of the bus to load, which took a while because it was a stretch bus.
And then the bus stopped running. Why did the driver just turn the bus off? You could hear the collective you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me sigh. So we waited. Surely the bus will turn back on and we'll all get on our merry little way, right? Two minutes later, but bus came back to life and promptly died again. That's not good. Neither was the announcement the driver made moments later saying that there was a "malfunction" with this bus and he'd have to give us all transfers to the next bus. No one waited for a transfer. We just got back off the bus and grumbled a lot. There was a bus immediately behind us, but the line already stretched around the corner again. I decided to say fuck it and just walk. If I'd done that from the start, I'd have already been on the subway. This probably wasn't the brightest decision. By the time I got to Lexington I couldn't really feel my feet.
Step 2: The Station
I was actually looking forward to the subway because it meant I'd be inside again and maybe thaw. There was a huge line to even get into the subway station, though. That usually means the turnstiles aren't working right. The platform was crowded too. But I didn't really care. I was already going to be a little late for work, and this was the easy part of trip. I squeezed myself onto an overcrowded subway car. Really, what else could go wrong? Silly question.
Step 3: The Subway
Somewhere between 86th and 59th, the train stopped. This isn't too unusual. It's rush hour. There's traffic. You stop for a minute or two. There's a recorded announcement apologizing for "the unavoidable delay," and then you keep going.
Not this time. We waited five or 10 minutes, and the conductor made an announcement telling us there was a sick passenger on the train ahead of us and we'd be moving shortly. More waiting. Finally we start to inch forward. We stop. More waiting. Another announcement. The sick passenger is now an unconscious passenger. And the train with said unconscious passenger onboard couldn't leave the station. So our train was going to pull up to the platform enough to open one door on the front car so we could all exit and transfer to a local train. I just kept wondering what all the fuss was about. I'd been on the subway with someone who had a seizure during rush hour, and that didn't slow anything down.
The problem with this all was that there was one door to evacuate an entire, crowded rush-hour train. How many people is that? I'm not sure, but I'd guess a couple hundred. I was in about the middle car, so we really couldn't tell what was going on. The driver kept coming on and making the same announcement.
We waited five or 10 minutes, and people started to get impatient. People started to curse and push their way into the next car. It's like they thought the people in the next car were just hanging out because they wanted to. I was standing near the door to the next car, and when a guy pushed past me and everyone yelled to follow him, I followed. Silly Anne. I got almost right inside the door, and there was no where to go. Two guys standing in between the cars started talking about jumping down onto the tracks and walking.
We waited another five or 10 minutes. Still no movement. Did they forget to open the door? Another crowd of people started trying to push their way through. I hated them. I was crammed even more uncomfortably close to people I didn't know. And two of the new people were two very angry women from the Bronx who were cursing up a storm. Apparently they had very important places to be. It all just made me so happy I wasn't on the subway during a black out. If 25 minutes on a stalled subway car does this to people, imagine what several hours would be like.
Things finally started moving, and I made my way from car to car and out onto the platform. One thing I didn't understand was the people in every car who kept their seats. The benches were full. You're not going to be moving anytime soon, so why stay? Another thing I didn't understand when I finally got out onto the platform is why the train didn't pull up any farther. There was almost half a platform between the two trains. That all would have been much less painful if even a couple more doors were open.
Step 3: The Platform
I followed the crowded upstairs to the local platform. Because of this situation, every 4 and 5 train was running local from 125th to Grand Central. There was a horrendous back-up. I couldn't believe the crowd on the platform. I had to wait for four cars to go by before I got close enough to the front to make it on. And when I was in the front, I was afraid I might die. I was right on the edge fo the platform, and there was a large crowd squeezed in behind me. If they leaned forward when the train came, I'd probably fall into the tracks. Luckily that didn't happen.
Step 4: The conclusion
I finally made it onto a train. It was a 4, so I had to get off and transfer to a 6 at Union Square. I finally got to work about 9:50. I'd left the house at 8:15. I was in pretty foul mood for the rest of the day. Really, when it all starts out that way, you know it's going to be one of those days.
It usually takes me 40 or 45 minutes to get to work. Thursday morning the trip took me over an hour and a half.
Step 1: The Bus
As it was about 3 degrees (plus wind chill!) and snowy outside, I decided it would be smart to take the bus to the subway. Obviously, I was not the only one with this idea. When I got to the stop, the line stretched down the block and around the corner. But there were two buses waiting, so I figured it would move quickly. I was one of the first people on the second bus. I got a seat and everything. I had to wait for the rest of the bus to load, which took a while because it was a stretch bus.
And then the bus stopped running. Why did the driver just turn the bus off? You could hear the collective you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me sigh. So we waited. Surely the bus will turn back on and we'll all get on our merry little way, right? Two minutes later, but bus came back to life and promptly died again. That's not good. Neither was the announcement the driver made moments later saying that there was a "malfunction" with this bus and he'd have to give us all transfers to the next bus. No one waited for a transfer. We just got back off the bus and grumbled a lot. There was a bus immediately behind us, but the line already stretched around the corner again. I decided to say fuck it and just walk. If I'd done that from the start, I'd have already been on the subway. This probably wasn't the brightest decision. By the time I got to Lexington I couldn't really feel my feet.
Step 2: The Station
I was actually looking forward to the subway because it meant I'd be inside again and maybe thaw. There was a huge line to even get into the subway station, though. That usually means the turnstiles aren't working right. The platform was crowded too. But I didn't really care. I was already going to be a little late for work, and this was the easy part of trip. I squeezed myself onto an overcrowded subway car. Really, what else could go wrong? Silly question.
Step 3: The Subway
Somewhere between 86th and 59th, the train stopped. This isn't too unusual. It's rush hour. There's traffic. You stop for a minute or two. There's a recorded announcement apologizing for "the unavoidable delay," and then you keep going.
Not this time. We waited five or 10 minutes, and the conductor made an announcement telling us there was a sick passenger on the train ahead of us and we'd be moving shortly. More waiting. Finally we start to inch forward. We stop. More waiting. Another announcement. The sick passenger is now an unconscious passenger. And the train with said unconscious passenger onboard couldn't leave the station. So our train was going to pull up to the platform enough to open one door on the front car so we could all exit and transfer to a local train. I just kept wondering what all the fuss was about. I'd been on the subway with someone who had a seizure during rush hour, and that didn't slow anything down.
The problem with this all was that there was one door to evacuate an entire, crowded rush-hour train. How many people is that? I'm not sure, but I'd guess a couple hundred. I was in about the middle car, so we really couldn't tell what was going on. The driver kept coming on and making the same announcement.
We waited five or 10 minutes, and people started to get impatient. People started to curse and push their way into the next car. It's like they thought the people in the next car were just hanging out because they wanted to. I was standing near the door to the next car, and when a guy pushed past me and everyone yelled to follow him, I followed. Silly Anne. I got almost right inside the door, and there was no where to go. Two guys standing in between the cars started talking about jumping down onto the tracks and walking.
We waited another five or 10 minutes. Still no movement. Did they forget to open the door? Another crowd of people started trying to push their way through. I hated them. I was crammed even more uncomfortably close to people I didn't know. And two of the new people were two very angry women from the Bronx who were cursing up a storm. Apparently they had very important places to be. It all just made me so happy I wasn't on the subway during a black out. If 25 minutes on a stalled subway car does this to people, imagine what several hours would be like.
Things finally started moving, and I made my way from car to car and out onto the platform. One thing I didn't understand was the people in every car who kept their seats. The benches were full. You're not going to be moving anytime soon, so why stay? Another thing I didn't understand when I finally got out onto the platform is why the train didn't pull up any farther. There was almost half a platform between the two trains. That all would have been much less painful if even a couple more doors were open.
Step 3: The Platform
I followed the crowded upstairs to the local platform. Because of this situation, every 4 and 5 train was running local from 125th to Grand Central. There was a horrendous back-up. I couldn't believe the crowd on the platform. I had to wait for four cars to go by before I got close enough to the front to make it on. And when I was in the front, I was afraid I might die. I was right on the edge fo the platform, and there was a large crowd squeezed in behind me. If they leaned forward when the train came, I'd probably fall into the tracks. Luckily that didn't happen.
Step 4: The conclusion
I finally made it onto a train. It was a 4, so I had to get off and transfer to a 6 at Union Square. I finally got to work about 9:50. I'd left the house at 8:15. I was in pretty foul mood for the rest of the day. Really, when it all starts out that way, you know it's going to be one of those days.
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