89 E 42nd Street

I’m sitting on the train now, finally. It’s been an hour since I arrived at the station. I wasn’t hungry for Shake Shack or anything. It’s too early to function. Oh look, the train’images moving.

So anyway, when I was upstairs in the main concourse, I decided to do some people watching. I started to think of my grandmother and how she use to love to people watch in Washington Heights, till my mom made her move to New Jersey with us. Now I know why she hates life.

It’s really fascinating to observe others who don’t realize they’re being observed. Older men and women walking half the speed rush hour traffic will allow. Young business men in suites and professional women in heals. Side street bums chilling by track 31. I hold my suite case close in response to those who would rather observe me instead.

I walk around for a bit, and then find a comfy spot on the stairs facing the windows and the clock. I start taking pictures before I make my time lapse. I never have enough time to just sit and time lapse at Grand Central.

image

By then it’s eight-twenty-something and I gotta run. I realize that being alone in the city with a large suitcase I seem have no sense of direction. I must have run over five different people and confused the heck out of seven more.

And just like that, my dreams of moving here are crushed. If I am a danger to others by simply walking, imagine if I was actually in a rush?

So here I am on this Metro North train heading up to Poughkeepsie. Back to school where endless homework assignments and projects await. I’m going to sign off now to preserve battery.

imageI may be half asleep on public transportation at 9:06 a.m right now, and I may be dreading the moment, but one day I’m going to look back and miss this train ride. Being in the city, at the grandest of stations. Traveling up the Hudson with the most gorgeous views.

But sadly, today is not that day.

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5 thoughts on “89 E 42nd Street

  1. Great post, Angela.
    Felt as though I was riding along with you. People watching is becoming a lost art with everyone so in a hurry to get somewhere. When I was young I remember houses having front porches; where one could wave and say hi to a neighbor as they walked by. From the 1960’s on most homes had a backyard deck or patio, eliminating the art of the neighborly wave or hello. This change in home structure says a lot about today’s society. For those of your age, Angela, I regret most don’t appreciate what your grandmother now misses.
    -Alan

    Liked by 1 person

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