The NY Times’ “Metropolitan Diary,” also known as “Septuagenarian Ladies Ending Cute Stories With ‘Only in New York!’”, offers not one but two yarns that take place on our area’s trains.
One story depicts a man on the 2 train who’s wrapped up in his Rubik’s Cube, as is the rest of his train. The second, a mere day after Father’s Day, is a snapshot of a father and son on Metro-North after a Yankee game.
Dear Diary:
On the No. 2 train from Pennsylvania Station to 72nd Street:
We got on. Every seat was taken and there were about 10 people standing, but still, not that crowded by subway standards. It was midday.
I noticed peripherally that there was a guy working a Rubik’s cube — with his eyes closed. (He was also listening to an iPod, like everyone else in New York City.) I didn’t really pay attention. I was talking to my friend Jeffrey, but registered that each time he moved the cube, he moved the fingers of his right hand, as if to keep track. I guess I checked his progress, and so did Jeff — enough to realize that he was getting close.
And then the whole darn car was watching the moving fingers and the cube — it was just a few dials away. And then, after a heart-stopping hesitation, he finished the puzzle and the entire car burst into spontaneous applause and joyful celebration.
Everybody had a question.
“How long did it take?” (Twelve minutes this time.) “Do you do it competitively?” (No.) “What’s with the fingers?” (“I ran out of space in my brain so I need to use my fingers to keep track.”) Everybody in that car was really thrilled, and then Jeffrey and I got off the train.
Paula Forman
Dear Diary:
A recent trip to Yankee Stadium reminded me of some vital information I learned several years ago on a Metro-North train, heading into Westchester.
Across the aisle from me sat what looked like a father and son, who were apparently returning home from a Yankee game. During the trip, the son, about 9 or 10 years old, reached into his backpack and retrieved a half-full bag of peanuts. As he ate the remaining peanuts, he dropped the shells on the floor of the train. His father, not pleased with this, told him to stop making a mess and to put the shells in the bag to throw out in the trash can when they left the train.
The son, surprised at his father’s reaction, objected with the argument, “We threw the shells on the floor in the stadium.”
To this, his father responded, “Yes, but they keep rats at Yankee Stadium, and after the fans leave, they let them in to clean up the shells.”
Josie Ganek