The Endless Commute

On the weekends in NYC, the subways break. They just stop working and reroute into a surreal world where nothing means what it says. The F train turns into the A train which turns into the D train which stops on the local tracks– but only for a few stops then it becomes an express 3 train to 59th street, but going downtown is a whole other story. The L train is at a halt in both directions because someone jumped to their death in front of a train in Brooklyn. There was an “incident” on the Q train which has stopped all Q services. Someone pulled the emergency alarm on the 1 train which is now stuck waiting for the police before it can resume service. The C train has track work on the uptown side so is rerouted over the E line. Everything becomes hopelessly chaotic and straphangers search for the most abstract transfers to get home while tourists open wide their subway maps punctuating and pointing in confusion while scratching their heads. Parents pull children up and down stairs, some lug carriages and elderly people clutch to the hand rails moving slowly. If only I could get to the G train. Maybe I’ll walk over the Williamsburg Bridge and over to Lorimer and hope the G train is working.