\t\t\t\tI got my commute lined up and organized. at either :15 or :45 past the
\nhour I should be waiting for the Q102, which connects me to the Q32, which
\nushers me straight to the front door of my new office: the Rose Main
\nReading Room at the NY Public Library. It’s not really an office, of
\ncourse, and I am sure to tire of it eventually, but for now it gets me
\naway from the dungeon of my apartment and into the reality of a city in
\nwhich other people live and work and do things. I have been in seclusion
\nfor so long that the virtual office environment, the augustness of the
\nstudy hall atmosphere at the Rose Main Reading Room, all that is good
\nenough for me to feel like I live in New York and not in my living room.
\nAnd I have a new attitude about that library now. I gave up going to the
\nmain branch of the NYPL when the guards began confiscating bags of all
\nvisitors. It was like stepping into a CompUSA and it kept me from visiting
\nthe space for years (unless I happened not to have a bag on me). Yes, it’s
\ntrue, I refuse to enter virtually any establishment that confiscates its
\nvisitors belongings as a rule for entry. At one point the list of places I
\ndid without (and which did without me) included the NYPL, the Strand
\nBookstore, CompUSA, Tower Records, and certainly others. It was a
\nconstipated security maneuver that seemed to admit by its existence that
\nthe store’s inventory control techniques were so poor that they feared
\npeople would take the crudest approach of all: stuffing items into their
\nbags and briefcases.<\/p>\n
the NYPL doesn’t do that any more, and in fact it’s gone full circle.
\nunlike those earlier times when entering the library felt like a cross
\nbetween entering a CompUSA and a TSA groping, the place now feels public.
\nPUBLIC. Anyone can walk in, no questions asked, no presenting of papers or
\nbelongings, no confiscation of possessions. The only intrusion is upon
\nexiting the place, when security guards ask to look into your bag, looking
\nfor what I don’t know because much of the time they obviously do not look
\npast the shadows inside my bag. yes, it’s a public space now. i don’t love
\nit, but i like it. i have typed and written things each weekday (except
\nyesterday, too hot, i though) since last week. i consult the 1000-page
\ndictionaries for words and i make phone calls from the payphones in the
\nwooden phone booths in the basement.<\/p>\n
(i cancelled my Verizon landline service from the payphone in one of the
\nwooden phone booths at the NY Public Library.)<\/p>\n
(i ported the old landline number to MagicJack.)<\/p>\n
but that’s my new office. the NYPL. and i will tire of it soon enough, but
\nfor now i enjoy the space, the randomness of the faces, the august
\natmosphere of the room, and the frigid air conditioning. if anything the
\na\/c is too much, at least on less stifling weather days such as today and
\nyesterday. unless i am wearing long pants i can only stay in Rose for
\nabout an hour on normal days before my teeth start to chatter.<\/p>\n
and i like the commute.<\/p>\n
oh, right, about that commute. today was the first time i tried the
\nQ102-Q32 connection. It worked, but today was kinda weird because the N
\nand Q trains stopped running in both directions, forcing a mass exodus of
\nsubway riders to the bus.<\/p>\n
people just do not understand how to use the bus in this city.<\/p>\n
there were 8 or 9 passengers on the whole bus until we got to the 36th
\nAvenue stop and about 70 people poured in, telling the bus driver that the
\ntrain had stopped running. the bus driver waved off all MetroCard swipes,
\nsaying the transfer was free, but the extra few minutes needed to board
\nall these passengers contributed to me missing the Q32, which i saw arrive
\nat Queensboro Plaza just 20 seconds ahead of the Q102. O, lost!<\/p>\n
upon exiting the bus and waiting for the Q32 i was bemused and somewhat
\namused at the confused and angry Manhattanites barking questions at
\nwhoever was nearest at hand and appeared to speak English, asking “how do
\ni get to Astoria from here? the trains aren’t running, how do i get to
\nAstoria, this is a fucking nightmare!”<\/p>\n
i hope their nightmare ended, but the Manhattanites i spotted seemed
\nterrified, terrified of Queensboro Plaza, terrified of buses and streets
\nwhen subways were their lowest usual indignity.<\/p>\n
Whatever became of the lost Manhattanites, today’s experiment in transit
\nseemed to prove that the plan, the commute, will work under normal
\ncircumstances. It takes me virtually door to door. Yes. that’s nice, nice
\nto be able to choose my office space based on the ease of the commute.<\/p>\n
still, this ritual of “going to work” reminds me of how much time is
\nwasted “going to work”. this commute should typically take about 40
\nminutes — much slower than a subway commuter but i, unlike most new
\nyorkers i know, prefer the bus and i, unlike most human beings, don’t
\nnecessarily mind taking my time getting from point A to point B.<\/p>\n
oh so another odd incident happened on the commuter today. the bus driver
\ncame within a few inches of flattening a police officer, an NYPD officer
\nwho for some reason just stepped right into the path of the bus (this
\naccording to the bus driver.” he had to slam the brakes so hard that
\nalmost everybody went flying forward as far as physics and the metal
\nrailings of the bus allowed us to be forward thrust. a man sitting next to
\nme found his face buried in my left arm pit and i felt pressure against my
\nright ribcage as it suddenly met the wall next to it. cell phones flew and
\nbooks slid down the floor toward the front of the bus, sundry objects from
\nbriefcases and pocketbooks flew asunder as the brakes of the bus squealed
\nlike beaten pigs, gravity rushing in the wrong direction as chaos ruled
\nthe moment.<\/p>\n
and then everything was calm. the dude next to me apologized for jamming
\nhis face into my armpit, apologized as if i didn’t notice that the bus had
\njust come to a violent halt. i supposed i would have taken the safest
\nroute and apologized as well. you never know who you are dealing with in
\npublic quarters. i smiled and asked “are you OK?” i don’t remember what he
\nsaid. it seemed like “I’m sorry” was among the few English-language
\nphrases he knew.<\/p>\n
somewhere on 5th avenue the bus driver was happy to see a colleague
\nstanding at one of the bus stops. he shouted out “I just can’t get a
\nbreak today! I almost ran down a police officer back at 3rd Avenue! I
\ndon’t know what he was doing out there!”<\/p>\n
After that exchange a woman whose phone had slid all the way to the front
\nof the bus during that near-hit of the NYPD officer stood up in
\nanticipation of exiting the bus. The driver had to hit the brakes *again*
\nand the woman nearly lost her balance, though the drama was nowhere near
\nas drastic as back at 3rd Avenue. She laughed it off, revealing her
\nEastern-European accent, saying “This bus ride is going to kill me!”<\/p>\n
Much laughter among the few of us left on the Q32.<\/p>\n
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I got my commute lined up and organized. at either :15 or :45 past the hour I should be waiting for the Q102, which connects me to the Q32, which ushers me straight to the front door of my new office: the Rose Main Reading Room at the NY Public Library. It’s not really an […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[29],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2506","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-text","et-doesnt-have-format-content","et_post_format-et-post-format-standard"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/paumAn-Eq","jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2506","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2506"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2506\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2506"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2506"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2506"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}