Subway Calisthenics

New Yorkers lead busy lives and have tiny apartments. There's really no room to house bulky exercise equipment, and who has time to go to the gym? Why not just follow this man's example, and use the subway as your elliptical machine/ThighMaster/that fancy thing with the bars. It's a little hard to see in the picture, but when we got on the Manhattan-bound A at Jay St, this guy was already well into a clearly well-honed exercise routine. He switched smoothly between pull-ups on the overhead bar and quad-sits (or whatever they're called) in front of the seat. While I have no idea how many sets he did before we got on the train, he did four between Jay St and West 4th, when he finally got off the train, having, at this point, shed several layers of clothing and resorted to a very audible focused breathing routine.

This Ain't Free!

Sunday evening, heading down the stairs for a Brooklyn-bound F-train at West 4th. As I was descending, I heard some pretty impressive drumming, and when I got to the platform, I saw a man who had set up a full drum battery and was going crazy on it. He was great. Two tourists stopped in front of him, and one of them whipped out his iPhone to make a video. A few seconds later, the drummer noticed the man recording him and immediately stopped playing. "What are you doing?" he asked. The tourist looked surprised, but kept on filming. The drummer pointed to a plastic cup on the floor with one of his sticks. "This ain't free!" he said. "You want a show, you pay for a show! I ain't gonna let you film me without a donation."
"You want money?" responded the tourist, taken aback. "I don't have any money. I just wanted a souvenir."
The drummer stood up. "You want a souvenir, you pay for a souvenir. You put money in that cup, you get your souvenir."
As I walked down the platform, I could hear them squabbling behind me. All of a sudden, the arguing stopped, and the drumming resumed. I can only surmise that the tourist had either paid the drummer in bills or left the platform in shame, since I never heard the clink of coins.

The Casting Car

I understand that there are many aspiring actors/actresses in NYC. It's one of the many things that adds to the city's charm. That being said, I was rather surprised to encounter all of them in the same car of the downtown E-train at 9:30 on Wednesday evening. Seated on either side of me was a man, dressed all in black, intently reading a script. Across from me was a woman, wearing more makeup than I've ever seen on a single face, perusing a stack of her own headshots. No fewer than three young ingenues were actually delivering soliloquies out loud to the unintentional audience around them. (Actually, to be fair, only one of them was bellowing her part--the other two were muttering theirs, but super-audibly.) The best, however, was the girl who was either rehearsing for Mary Poppins, which is currently playing on Broadway, or attempting to seduce any chimney sweeps who may have been lurking on the train, as she kept on singing the chorus to "A Spoonful of Sugar" at the top of her voice, only to interrupt herself by shouting "Supercallifragillous!"
Next time I get on the E, I'll have to bring two friends with me and stage Coppenhagen.

Price Check on the E-Train

Saturday morning. Having just come from Trader Joe's, I'm waiting on the platform at 23rd St to catch a C or E train. I've already had to move to two new spots on the platform because a boy, about 14, with thick glasses clearly containing the wrong prescription, has nearly knocked me over twice in trying to get closer to the signs to see which trains are running this weekend. An E finally pulls in, and as I'm getting on, a young woman asks if this the train "downtown to 168th". I explain that 168th is uptown and ask where she's going. She looks confused, and the doors are about to close, so I tell her to get on the train and I'll give her directions. She does, and after considerable back-and-forth, I discover that she's trying to get to 96th and Broadway. I tell her that she needs to get off at either 34th or 42nd and transfer to the C. She is confused again, and since I'm getting off to transfer at 42nd myself, I suggest that she transfer there as well so that I can show her what to do.
Just then, as we are pulling in to 34th St, two very tall men, who are in the process of making a verbal grocery shopping list, peer into my bags and one says, "Maybe she'll sell us her milk and bananas and then we don't have to go to the store after all!" Laughing, I tell them that I haven't bought milk, but they're welcome to a banana. We all chuckle. All, that is, but the woman, who is now convinced that the subway is dangerous because people try to steal your groceries (!). She decides to get off at 34th to flee the dangerous train. As she's leaving, I tell her to wait at the same platform for the C, but as the doors are closing she says, "But this is the platform for the E!"
I wonder where she is now?