Trains, Subways and Buses

My mother in law in seeing a bus travel up Clinton Road in Garden City asked me What bus is that and where is it going?

I had no idea.

That puzzled my mother-in-law as she was born and bred in Brooklyn. She was a city person. She knew every bus and subway line by number color and letter. She even knew which ones were express.

Public transportation was her means of transit.

I am a born and bred suburban girl. The only transportation I grew up knowing was my car and before that my mother and father’s car. Driving was and is my mode of commutation—even when I travel to Manhattan.

But my comfort in driving has also created my aversion to public transportation. I must submit to a schedule. I must have external times which are not necessarily tailored to my needs thrust upon me. I must hurry up just to wait. I find myself habitually looking at my watch calculating my arrivals and departures---it distracts me from enjoyment.

And then there is the “ick” factor. I must sit on and touch what complete strangers have physically touched—I fear their lack of lack of hygiene. I fear the germ laden expulsions from their snorting, sneezing, coughing and all other excretory expulsions that I do not care to ponder.

The final blow is the “lost” factor—if I get on the wrong train/bus/subway I cannot simply turn around and/or recalculate.

When it comes to public transportation, I am just not a city girl.

And the other day, for the first time in my almost 53 years I took the LIRR all by myself to and from Manhattan—I had no companion to act as  a buffer to lessen my issues. I sat one seat away from a man who rattled with mucus. I also had to briefly hold on to the unclean bar to balance myself before the train came to a complete stop. I checked my watch every ten minutes instead of enjoying my daughter’s company.

And even though I tried to convince myself that that train was a much better option than sitting in slow moving traffic on the LIE, I remain unconvinced. Deep down, I would have preferred the traffic. And the only solace I will take for having completed my journey was the fact that my mother in law would have been so proud. I am sure she was smiling down at me from heaven—I can even see it if I close my eyes.