16th
Adventures in subway riding.
This morning I was reminded of why I both love New York and hate it at the same time. It’s 9am and I’m on the N train, late to work. I’m guessing most of the subway car is late to work too. I have yet to drink my morning cup of coffee. And there is this man on the train, with an accent like Kenneth’s from 30 Rock wearing high-waisted pleated pants, a fanny pack and baseball cap waaaay too high up on his head. And this man wants to talk to us. About Jesus.
As he starts pestering a poor Hindu man about how reincarnation is like jesus and whether or not they spoke English in India, the train began to go into a silent revolt. Ipod headphones went on. Backs were subtly turned. Eyes were rolled and silent chuckles rippled through the car every time this man stumbled while the train went around a bend. And eventually, after no one would take his materials and even his questions about the statue of liberty went unanswered, the man with the jesus pamphlets shut up.
So, New Yorkers, consider this a love poem. Because where else in the country would it be the friendly jesus freak who was treated like a pariah? Where else would absolutely no one feel the need to be polite to the bumpkin out of towner? Where else do even the religious not want to be preached to, especially not at 9am? Only in cynical, take-no-shit New York is where, and that’s why I love you. We will forever band together to ostracize those who feel the need to come up here from Kentucky and help us save ourselves from sin. Because you know what? This is our city. And no matter how many disagreements and fights we get into with each other, in the end it’s not, nor will it ever be, anything like Kentucky. And that’s exactly why we like it.