Woman: (running frantically with her husband to a stationary M4 bus at 68th St.) Stop!!!!
Woman: (to bus driver) So, what do I do with this?
THEY SQUISH ALONG BUS TO MIDDLE
Woman: New York buses are so confusing! and crowded. Husband: Yep. Woman: (adoringly) You are so good at figuring this out! I never could.
Woman: The waitress at that restaurant wasn’t very nice. Husband: Nope.
Woman: Where are we? Husband: 74th. No, 72nd. Woman: Where are we going? Husband: 79th. Woman: Does it stop at every street? Husband: No, it seems to be stopping every three streets. Or every two streets. Woman: Where are we now? Husband: 74th. Woman: We’re getting close. Husband: Yep, we’re going to 79th Woman: Does it stop at 79th? Husband: I don’t know. Woman: How do we get it to stop? Husband: I don’t know. Woman: Where are we now? Husband: 74th.
I like this story about a family of tourists using public transit, but I think it’s important to remember that the challenge/adventure of public transit is more welcome when you’re on vacation and have all the time in the world to get to the beach or a burbling pool of tar. When you’re commuting to work daily or trying to make it to a job interview on time, it can be a headache. (Another nitpick: I’ve seen tons of teenagers, i.e. natives, using buses and trains. It’s done.)
For a fun edit, put the statement that “they have a faith many here don’t that the system can take them just about anywhere” right in front of this sentence, which makes my head spin:
By the time they are done and back on the rails heading homeward, their trip will have taken them on two Amtrak trains, four Red Line trains, one Gold Line train, three Amtrak buses, four Dash buses, four Metro buses, one Big Blue Bus and one historic downtown L.A. funicular.
Kudos to the Vogel family. Apparently you have interminable patience and lots of quarters.
“NYC DOT Announces Search for Innovative Pedestrian Information System to Improve Walkability, Economic Vitality of City Streets”
Today, for a moment, the 6 train was a demographic excavation site. I got on at 77th, and most of the current riders (sitting, with no standers) were people of color who were coming from Harlem or the Bronx. At my stop a bunch of Met-goers and tourists got on. Then at 68th the next layer was built of Hunter students, loud and talkative and casual. Finally, at 59th street three men in slacks and blue-collared shirts—I kid you not, three men with identical hairstyles and close to identical outfits—crowded in the door right before it shut. I stood there in the corner and smiled to myself, observing the geological layers packed tightly up one against the other. Only in New York, right?