Shared Readings

One of the pleasures and pains of New York City is riding the subway all the time.  It's crowded, people come through to beg for money, it's sometimes on time and sometimes not so reliable, and it can be too hot or cold or wet, depending on the weather.  But overall I generally enjoy it for several reasons.

Firstly, it means seeing lots of different people, some of whom are really different.  Unless you have a driver, or are brave enough to drive, it really is the means of transportation here.  Yes, there are taxi's but the people of the subway occupy many walks of life not suited for such decadence.

Then there are the musicians that grace the platforms and occasionally the subway cars themselves.  There is a lot of diversity in the music they are sharing and a lot of variety in their ability as well.  Pan flute players with soundtracks, erhu, steel drum, classical violin, jazz combo, vocal ensembles;
any variety of numbers and styles exist underground.

But perhaps the real thing that I like about subway travel is that there is little to do but read.  10 minutes here, 15 minutes there, and somehow books and articles are eaten.  It's hard to stop life to find the time to read, but if it is the time that you are spending traveling, then there is nothing you can do about it.  

I am currently reading a book that I quite enjoy, The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt.  It's set in New York City which also makes it interesting to read as I ride the trains.  This evening, as I was standing next to the train door, I finished a chapter and looked up to see a 20-something-year-old girl standing next to me, looking at me.  "How do you like it?" she asked with a smile.  "Oh I'm really enjoying it," I said.  "I love her descriptions," to which I answered, "Yes, and also the characters."  She nodded in agreement and said, "Enjoy."

And then we both awkwardly arrived at our mutual stop, but upon exiting the train, knew one another no longer.  It broke the rule of New York anonymity that we should walk together, outside that sacrosanct space of the subway train car.  But still I think I saw her as she left the station and walked out onto 87th street.