*BAM! I'm trade marking that right here, right now. It just came to me, as genius usually does. Ah yes, sobriety.
Since I no longer go out on Saturdays, I find myself writing in this blog before I go to bed. At least something "productive" comes out of me being anti-social. Saturday nights are unbearable both in Manhattan and Brooklyn. I'd rather go out Sunday or Monday, when no one else is around. And I do. And then I drink too much and regret it. Perhaps anti-socialism (sketch idea!) and writing is a good thing. So here I am, once again, forced to type in a font other than Courier because the universe is against me. It's the little things, right? I write for this women's blog website about living in the city. Today I realized I haven't submitted anything in a month. Woops. The last time I contributed I did submit two different entries to be posted on different days. After mentioning twice that only one had been posted, I gave up. The women of New York did not get to read about my experience throwing up all over the city. Oh well. I was going to write an open letter to Katy Perry, and everyone in the world, about how I don't look like her and to stop telling me I do-but decided that might be a little, well, much. I'll save that for another day. This past week though something inspired me. Finally.
(This will be the rough draft of what I eventually submit.)
It was last Thursday night. I had gotten off of work around 12:30, and it took almost a half hour just to make it downtown from 42nd to 14th St. Luckily, I only had to wait thirteen minutes on the L platform at Union Square for the Brooklyn bound train. If anyone else lives off the L in Brooklyn, late nights can be rough. Thirteen minutes is nothing. Anyway. A bunch of MTA workers got off the 8th Ave. bound train to wait for the Brooklyn train to come so they could hop down and clean the tracks. As they stood around waiting, dirty, with tons of lanterns and other equipment, I realized I should never, ever, complain about my job. My day doesn't begin at 10 p.m., and end at 6 in the morning. I never risk my life by walking around dark subway tunnels. I genuinely feel bad for these people. I don't know what MTA employees get paid, not enough obviously (there was that strike a few years ago), but it has to be lucrative enough for anyone, meaning the thousands of people employed, to do it. Rents need to be paid, families fed. Understandable reasons, but still.
I was really affected while standing close to the edge, waiting to see the headlight of the oncoming train, and MTA worker two feet away from me was staring down at the tracks, watching a rat run around. The tracks were covered in garbage, and that guy has to clean it up. Sad face. That fact doesn't occur to those who pollute. A week or two ago I witnessed three twentysomething girls toss the remnants of their Happy Meals onto the tracks, with a garbage can only a few feet away, and then look around to see if anyone saw (I doube out of guilt). I saw. And I quietly judged them and hoped something horrible would happen to them. Karma ladies. Why make someone else's life more difficult because you're lazy? That's one thing I constantly find myself saying-"Life is hard enough, why make it more difficult for a stranger?" I think that's really why I wanted to write about this. I can't grasp why people do the majority of things they do, like litter. What gives you the right? What makes you think it's even acceptable to do that? The MTA doesn't work to clean up your mess, it's there to get you where you need to go. Some people would probably argue, "I pay $87 for a monthly pass, I should do what I want." I pay that amount every month too, and I always manage to find a garbage can. Is it really that hard to hold onto a piece of trash for an extra second until you can find a garbage can? In the words of Jack Donaghy, "What happened to you as a child to make you like this?"
I'm by no means a tree hugging enviromentalist. This actually has nothing to do with the enviroment or Mother Earth...although not littering does help the world and everything. It's all about life and helping each other and human kind out. That comes out rather hippy-dippy too. Oh well. I'm not asking anyone to recycle or give up their subway seats to children, just don't throw stuff away on the platform or the subway tracks. Okay? If you worked for the MTA, how would you feel?