In my second week in New York, I have started to explore. I went to see Madame Butterfly conducted by Placido Domingo at the Metropolitan Opera on Wednesday and have been meeting friends for lunch or dinner. They have been showing me around the city and helping me adjust.
Yesterday, I made my first real big goof on the subway. I went out to meet an old friend for sushi in Washington Square Park, and we were to meet outside the ACE subway at West 4th. So, using one of my trusty subway maps, I hopped on to the 4 at Bowling Green (just down the block) to head uptown. However, I was running a little late and didn't realize that I got on the downtown train. The ride seemed a little long for just going to Wall St., but I was wrapped up in listening to my music and worrying about whether my cell phone battery would hold out long enough to call my friend. Twenty minutes later I arrived at Borough Hall in Brooklyn. Realizing my mistake, I walked to the uptown side of the platform and waited for 20 minutes for the next train to take me back to Manhattan.
My hope was that I would get off at Fulton St. and transfer to the ACE and then that it would be a smooth ride right up to West 4th. However, I forgot to take into account a newly found talent of mine. For some reason, people always ask me for directions, a big mistake. As soon as I stepped on to the ACE platform, I noticed him out of the corner of my eye, a kid with way too many bags to be carrying all by himself. He sidled up to me and at first asked me if I knew what time it was. At this point I realized that my cell phone no longer had any juice and that it would be next to impossible to find my friend once I got to my intended destination. He then told me about all the problems he'd been having with his new Swatch and if I knew how he could get to 42nd Street (Times Square) using the ACE. So I pulled out my map and helped him devise a plan. We chatted until my stop, when I wished him a good journey and a nice life. I found my friend after 15 minutes of walking around and we had a great afternoon, but I kept thinking about that boy on the subway car.
In New York, we are surrounded by millions of people, but we interact with very few and know even fewer. I kept thinking about the fact that I had learned so much about that young man in our brief conversation. E.B. White wrote that, "New York will bestow the gift of loneliness and the gift of privacy," but such chance connections bind New Yorkers together.
