Take The A Train
Is it weird that I have an attachment to a train? And it has nothing to do with Duke Ellington. This was the train I took to get just about anywhere. Even when I left Manhattan to go to far away Brooklyn, I started off on the A train. A subway token, bought at a booth from an actual person, was my passport to the world, because everything in the world can be found in New York City. Everything.
My train station was the first stop on the A train. Or the last, depending on how you looked at it. It was on the corner by the pharmacy where I bought my first bottle of Herbal Essence shampoo (the original) and Love’s Baby Soft perfume, Yardley eyeshadow and oddly enough, Dr Scholl’s exercise sandals! The candy store was next door where I bought my favorite PayDay candy bars. I bought comics there as a kid until I graduated to 16 Magazine and Tiger Beat. I got my fashion tips from Seventeen magazine. The back to school issue was the best. From the bakery next door I could get a Black and White cookie for the ride. I had my first cannoli there, proving my point that everything can be found in NYC.
This is how the subway cars looked when I had my first experiences riding them. The seats were made of this kind of woven plastic. I was either with my Mom or my grandmother. Our destination was Macy’s where we would shop for school clothes or a winter coat. I had to dress up which I hated. Sometimes I was dragged either to the Opera at the Met, my parents had season tickets, or Leonard Bernstein’s young people’s concerts. Probably the only negative memory I have about the A train.
By the the 1970s I was riding the A train on my own. That kind of graffiti mess, like in the picture above, was how most trains looked at the time. By then I was taking the A train not only to go shopping downtown but to Central Park and the Village. I also discovered the lower east side. Okay, so I wasn’t Christopher Columbus, but I got some good buys just the same.
I was in NYC a few years ago. The trains were cleaner. Nobody looked at anyone else. Well, I did, otherwise how would I know. But no one made eye contact with me. It’s a NYC tradition! My tradition is people watching, and some of the best people watching happens on the NYC subway where people don’t really want to be watched. Happiness is me riding the A train home eating a hot pretzel I bought from a vendor on the Columbus Circle platform.
