Squeezed onto the express like silent sardines, adopting a barber and more reader tales of New York City in this week’s Metropolitan Diary.
Squeezed onto the express like silent sardines, adopting a barber and more reader tales of New York City in this week’s Metropolitan Diary.
Squeezed onto the express like silent sardines, adopting a barber and more reader tales of New York City in this week’s Metropolitan Diary.
Squeezed In
Dear Diary:
It was June 2016, and I was on my way to my first 9-to-5 job in Midtown. I boarded a crowded 1 train at 135th and Broadway and then gingerly made my way onto an even more crowded express at 96th Street.
It was clear that no one really wanted to be on the train, but everyone was civil about it. People moved in where they could and put their backpacks on the floor to accommodate others.
The air conditioning was hardly working, and we were all packed like sardines in silence. I held my right hand against the ceiling to balance myself on the way to the next stop, 72nd Street.
When the train pulled in, a large crowd was waiting. Very few people got off, and only a couple of people managed to get on. A well-dressed woman in a leopard-print dress stared into the car from the platform, looking for somewhere she could fit.
“Guys, really?” she said. “Make room for me. Please.”
No response.
“I can clearly see enough space for three to four people in the car,” she said.
As the doors began to close, a voice came from the other end of the car.
“Yeah,” the rider said, “maybe in your house.”
— Josh Schultz