I have been thinking a long time about writing a blog entry on Grand Central and the beast that it is. I just think the human behavior exhibited there (and I loosely call it that) is fascinating. People behave more like animals or cars even, than people. If they weren't standing on two feet, wearing designer shoes and chatting on their cell phones I would think they were something that belonged in a herd.
It first begins when you are waiting for your Metro-North train in the morning on the platform to go to Grand Central. You can tell that the mood is a little pensive as people rush to get their "spot" on the cold outdoor platform, the exact place to stand where one might score a seat. A lot of consideration goes into this because you never can tell where the doors will open. So you try your best to estimate. People begin to glance around, looking at one another as if gauging their competition for a seat. If you get stuck standing, waiting for a train next to someone who is pregnant or who walks with a cane, you're screwed. You know they are getting to sit before you. You adjust accordingly.
Then the train arrives. You chase down that door, while the train is still moving. You pick your entry vantage point. Will you attempt from the left, right or middle? I actually overheard someone advising someone else just last week that "it's much faster to go in from the middle, it confuses people." Hopefully, that's a helpful hint for someone. Maybe you get on from the left, but saw through the windows that there were seats to the right. Now you have to cross the line of people entering from the right and no one will like you, I assure you.
You are on the train. Maybe you squish in and become the third person in the row, which by the way, people hate. Or you score an empty chair with no one across from you taking up your leg room. Maybe you stand. I stand, a lot. You are on your way to Grand Central.
Now somewhere between Harlem 125 and the tunnel into Grand Central, the occupants of the train morph. I can't say for sure what they are. I am sure science could figure it out, but the behavior goes like this:
Two minutes before the train door opens, the most eager of these beasts, crowd the door. They line up facing one of the doors anticipating which side will pull up to the platform. I personally take much joy in them being wrong because the line is now forced to turn around to face the opposite door, leaving the most eager of the bunch at the back of the line. There is no airplane-like courtesy, you know, where you allow the person in the row before you out to exit the plane. Oh no, if that old lady with the cane is not aggressive enough to bust into the line, and quite possibly use that cane, she may sit in the train until it's close to empty.
Now the race begins. The race for what? Your subway? 42nd Street? Newsflash: subways come every three minutes. Must you almost knock me over to get to yours? Apparently, the answer is yes. Or if you are not attempting to knock me over, you are hovering one inch from me while occasionally "accidentally" bumping into the bag that is on my shoulder. Maybe you have enough manners to say "excuse me" as you try to mow me or others down.
As the race down the platform ends, we all enter the main hall of Grand Central. A beautiful land. Full of marble and huge windows with ornate wrought iron designs over them. A ceiling painted in a calming blue with the constellations detailed. Sun streams through, making the room almost glow. But you didn't see any of that did you? Because you are too busy attempting to hurdle yourself over someone. As the beasts criss cross, running into each other, cutting each other off, muttering curse words, I begin to picture them as cars (in L.A.). The lines of people form outlining the appropriate lanes of traffic so to speak and God forbid you need to cross one to get to an exit. It's like a challenge, to cross your lane of people, cross the lane of people in the opposite direction and get to the door. No one likes you. You wasted two seconds of their day. They had to slow down. How dare you.
And there should be laws against texting or talking on one's phone while moving in this traffic. You could easily run someone over or worse, cause a people accident, which could cause a people pileup. I swear. I have almost seen this happen.
They rush down to their subways. At the line for the stairs, they cut in front of as many people as they can at the top of the stairs. They are like bad drivers. They make their way down the stairs and allow a 1 inch distance from the person in front of them. They maintain that distance while the person in front of them runs their metrocard and pushes through the turnstile. The person in front of them has to run their card twice which causes an accident. They have actually run into the back of that person because they were walking too close. They are so annoyed.
Again the criss cross lane change issues happen until they are finally standing at the platform for their subway. The subway arrives. It's stuffed. As people are attempting to exit the train, the beasts are pushing themselves on. They see one inch of space and feel everyone should "push in, there's more room." They press up against you and sigh loudly, as if you are the problem here. If only you took up less space.
And finally, it's over. The subway leaves Grand Central. You are exhausted and you've only started your day.
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