It's a hell of a town

Quintessential New York experience #1:
Yesterday, aggravation on the subways reached a new high in New York. As temperatures soared into the 100s on Tuesday, power levels drooped in Queens. The MTA claimed it wasn't receiving enough power from Con Edison to run the subways properly, so as a result, the R and the V (local trains) weren't running at all, and the E and the F (express trains) were running local, but only once every fifteen minutes as opposed to once every three to five minutes as they usually do during rush hour. Plus: no air conditioning. Or at least there wasn't any in my car. That means thousands of sweaty, smelly, exhausted, irritated New Yorkers pressed up against each other in a stifling subway car that's taking a half-hour longer than usual to get where it's supposed to go.

But that's not the quintessential part of the experience! In my car, as I rode along fervently pretending that I was somewhere else, a woman a few feet away from me (this means there were about thirty sweaty, smelly, exhausted, irritated New Yorkers in between us) apparently did not appreciate the way a man next to her had touched her. (As we were all being touched by about twenty other people at the time, her complaint seemed superfluous, but that is neither here nor there.) She let him know it. He in turn did not appreciate her objection, and he let her know it. Loudly. Making use of several colorful adjectives and turns of phrase, most of them modified by the word "fuck." "You don't like it, why don't you get the fuck off the train and get your own fucking cab. Dumb bitch." She, obviously delirious from the heat, challenged him to get off the train at her stop and have some sort of duel with her boyfriend. They traded insults back and forth for a few stops, and it was about the time that he threatened to push her that I started envisioning a full-scale fight brawl breaking out in the subway car (although as we were all approximately two inches or less apart from one another at the time, it probably couldn't have gotten very violent). What's more, the crowd of people around me -- a diverse group of African-American, Hispanic and Asian subway riders -- started up a hushed commentary about the argument. "He just won't let up on her."

Finally they both got out at Roosevelt. And a woman who had been pressed right up against the back of Mr. Subway Rage exhaled a long, deep sigh of relief, looked around at the rest of us and exclaimed, "Lord have mercy! What was that about? It's a hundred degrees and they're just going at it!"

Quintessential New York experience #2:
Today on my lunch break I went to get some frozen yogurt at a little cafe on 63rd and Broadway. There was a young woman on the street with a clipboard asking people if they had a minute to support gay rights. I approached her at the same time as a woman in her early 70s. "What are you asking people to do?" I inquired. Apparently the best way to support gay rights is to become a partner in the Human Rights Campaign, where a small monthly payment will be deducted from your credit card blah blah blah. "I'm sorry, I don't have much money," I said regretfully, and started to walk away, when the elderly woman lit into me. "You don't have money? You bought that!" she said, pointing at my frozen yogurt. "Isn't that worth the cost of supporting someone's civil rights? This is your future we're talking about! My future is already written, but this is your future. Because you know what? After the gays, and the Jews, come the women, and the minorities, and everybody else." [pause] "I'm sorry, but I'm very worked up about this." Then she walked away and the girl with the clipboard said to me, "I'm sorry about that." And I said, "It's okay -- I'd rather hear that than the other way around."

Lessons learned? Make whatever kind of donation you can afford to the HRC, and when it's 300 degrees out, avoid the subway at all costs.