Straphanger Joe Says All is Not OK in Queens

OK’s Again 

9:14a.m.

I walked my son to camp (twelve minutes from home), then walked to the Roosevelt 74th Street station (another 12 minutes).

The humidity is thick. My shirt is stuck to me again – third day in a row. I’m downstairs, on the platform, in the pit, in pole position for the F. The other straphangers are standing five feet to my left and 10 feet to my right, pole position for the E.

I’ve let pass two E’s and an F – all too crowded to even attempt to get on so I’ve been standing on the platform for longer than usual. Too long.

I’m reading the same lines of Publisher’s Weekly over and over again, Sara Nelson’s column on O.J.’s book finally making it into print. She can’t believe it and neither can I. 

The F in the orange circle appears and the others, realizing they’re in the wrong position to get on this train, crowd around me. The train is half empty. As soon as the doors open I step in. I can’t help myself. I see pay dirt. I go forward.

In front of me are three Insiders trying to get off the train. I’m in the way of one of them and I take a step to the right. She steps to her left. I go left and she goes right, mirroring me. There’s a buildup of pressure behind me. I can feel temperatures rising. I look up and into the person’s face. I step to the side and let her pass. She’s pissed and mouths some expletive.

Realization hits me. 

I’ve become that which I despise. I’ve become one of them, an OK (Outside Knucklehead). Other OK’s filed past me, giving the two other Insiders-trying-to-get-out, an even greater salmon-ish struggle.

I meekly found my place by the far door, took out my PW and tried to finish Nelson’s column.

“Just remember,” I told myself, “OK today, not necessarily an OK tomorrow.”

–Joe Lunievicz