S74 to the depot.
SIM22 to Midtown.
Mood: Driver said good morning back.
Things to remember so far:
1. Stand in line at the bus stop. Don’t be that person who cuts unintentionally. This shit is serious.
2. If you choose an empty row to sit, move in. Don’t sit on the outside chair, shimmy your early ass over to the window so the next person doesn’t have to go crazy for a seat.
3. Wear sneakers. I can’t say that enough. Save the cute shoes for your actual shift.
4. Download the MTA Bus Time app. Unless you have it already, which you should. I have no shame being new to the game.
6:13, on the bus.
I forgot my Beats. Do you know when I realized I forgot them? When Greta, next to me, began to snore.
6:34, on the Turnpike and I’ve never been on it this early. Usually I’d get on like 7:15, when I worked in Jersey.
Greta must be getting into her REM sleep.
The SIM22 is still coasting the HOV lane.
Next stop: tunnel.
We finally stopped. We must be approaching the tunnel.
Nope. False alarm. It was slight traffic.
6:57, and we just entered the toll booth of the Lincoln Tunnel.
Some traffic, but not like Staten Island/Brooklyn.
The woman on the prerecorded message nearly woke everyone up. Even Greta twitched.
“Please no littering, smoking, spitting or radio playing on the bus.”
The bus grew quiet again. Greta let out a hefty growl of a snore.
7:08, DING! 42nd street.
I finally found the train station (the 1,2,3 trains). I’m not gonna lie, it was my first time on a subway by myself. (Pause for laughter.)
7:20, Got to my job. Not bad.
Got a bacon and egg sandwich and was in my elevator at 7:32.
I got my free Moe’s Wrong Doug with pork and took it out to the courtyard with the toys.
There were some serious chess matches going on and the only available table had a Jenga tower smack in the middle.
I wanted to play corn hole but some guy was showing off, throwing sand bags behind his back. The wind swept the Checkers (board and all) clear across the yard.
The trainer rolled his eyes.
One girl helped pick up the pieces. I joined her (not wanting to ruin my future juggling instruction).
At least it’s not raining.
Some random street guy walked up to the corn hole and just started flinging the bags in, banking the board seven times like nothing!
Yeah I’ll wait and practice in the privacy of my brother’s backyard for a few more months.
These New Yorkers are no joke.
The juggle trainer arrived just in time.
I mean, how silly will I look? Better yet, who really cares?
Yes, I am a juggler now.
Stay tuned for more
SamWriteNow & the City!