It's A Love/Hate Thing...

I refuse to write a post about how it’s my first blog post. That previous sentence will just have to do.

Because I work in the city, and I don’t live in the city but live in a small town in New Jersey, (unfortunately – cue Kelly’s Clarkson’s “Breakaway”) I usually take a bus or train to commute an hour into the Big Apple. Except nowadays, I’ve been taking the bus to the Port Authority Terminal because it drops me off right at Times Square which is where I need to be. Perfect.

But there is a reason that most people take a train. Actually, you can’t really even say “most” people, because with the population of the East Coast, and the popularity of New York City, you’ll find a massive crowd wherever your specific form of transportation may be. Either way, the train is still chosen over a lot of other types of transport. That’s easy enough to figure out; it comes every 15 minutes to a ½ hour, the tickets are a pretty decent price (well…used to be) and the trains are a nice temperature. But in my case, I’d have to take the train to Penn Station, then take a subway, and I’m a broke college student, and…

Okay, let’s stop boring the world with my train opinions. The point is, the only reason I take the bus, is because it is conveniently close to my work.

But. It. Is. SO. Disorganized. And hot. And disorganized. And there’s always a huge line of people waiting for the wrong bus, running around like headless chickens, trying to catch a word with the careless employees of Port Authority. And since I’ve been taking the same bus for over two months now, I’ve gotten used to the disorganized structure of the bus station and find myself directing panicky people in the right direction. No, that’s at Gate 8…Yes, I know what the sign says, but in about ½ hour, a bus conductor will come out and tell everyone to go to Gate 8…Okay, sure, you can stand there and wait for him…

It’s actually kind of nice, knowing how the system works, and helping frenzied people. For a crazy second, I thought it would be cool to work there – then the amount of driving around I would have to do hit me, and that thought vanished in a blink. But the other reason that I take the bus, is actually meeting all these frenzied people. Like, just yesterday, there was a French couple with twins from Switzerland. Who woulda thunk it?! Good thing I’ve got 6 years of French on my resume. Although I kept quiet for awhile and resorted to watching a beefy looking man trying to explain the bus line to them in slow English. There is no bus at 6:30…the next one is at 7:15…no, no, the 6:30 one is only on Monday thru Thursday…yes…no, the next one is at 7:15…do you understand, that’s only Monday thru – is that French you’re speaking?

Not to brag or anything, but I’m pretty sure I could have translated everything that man said into simple French for the nice couple. Let’s see, Monday = Lundi, 6:30 = Six heures et demie…

But honestly, it is actually really nice meeting all these people. That same day that I met the French couple going to Lambertville, I had missed a 6:00 train by two seconds and had to sit there for about an hour for the next train (another reason I hate Port Authority – the gap between each bus is about the same time it take for grass to grow). Fortunately, I had Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and some snacks handy, so I sunk down onto the shoe-trodden, gum-infested floor and tried to immerse myself in the book. But with about half a million people running around, give or take one thousand, it’s difficult to isolate yourself from the world so easily. Actually, you’re kind of missing out if you do. People-watching is probably one of the best things to do in a city with so many people. You get all kinds down at the ol’ bus station. Let’s see if I can categorize them (at least at my gate):

1. The white-collar workers coming home from work. Usually carrying a briefcase or rolling backpack, the Daily News, and sporting sweaty pits, forehead, the works.

2. Older women, around 50+, wearing khaki pants, a colorful “fashionable” top, sandals, some luggage, if any, heading over to the casino that just opened up on our bus route (why anyone would want to go to a casino in the middle of Pennsylvania is beyond me).

3. Various young people, usually women, who are just there, and are probably in my situation.

4. The tourists. Enough said.

5. The elderly, who usually are at the wrong gate. But it is so heartwarming to help them to the right gate. Honestly. I always feel so good when they get home safe. =)

6. The inevitable crazy people who talk to themselves. I usually keep a safe distance away from them, so I don’t really know what they’re like. I had the pleasure of putting my French into action when I overheard the French couple talk about how there was a crazy guy right in front of them. Oh, how cute.

You always think that people don’t actually notice these things, but they do. I do. Those sweaty pit stains you unfortunately see? That man probably just ran here from 4 blocks away, because he found it useless to hail a cab in such nice weather, although after running for 2 blocks, realized that the weather was a little too nice and possibly borderline heat wave. Normally, he could have easily caught the earlier bus, but today was special in that he had to stay late because someone at the office messed up some project that was now his responsibility to fix. Now he’s trying to head home from work quickly, and is pissed that the next bus doesn’t come for an hour, because he needs to be home in time for something that’s going to piss his wife off if he’s late for. But hey, why not open up the newspaper in the meantime and see what kind of mischief Lindsay Lohan is getting into this time?

I could write on for ages about the people at Port Authority. I’m sure there are enough stories there to feed a third world country. And by that I mean if their stories could somehow generate money, and with that money you bought food to feel a whole third world country, well, there you go.

After I stop working in New York for the summer, I won’t need to take the bus to commute anymore, because I attend school there, full-time. But next time I have the choice between the bus and train, I might take the bus, only because they’ve got practically a full-sized mall on the main level. Yes, that’s why.