#52: "Which Way"

If there's one thing I've always been good at, it's knowing where I am, and which way I should be going. Well, only as far as spatial relations is concerned. Don't believe for a minute that I have anything else sorted out.

That spirit of knowing my way around has stuck with me through my life. I think it was my second summer here in New York when, out of sheer boredom at work, I decided that I would attempt to commit to memory as much of the subway system as I possibly could. I may be a little rusty these days, but there was a time when I was a machine.

When Amy and I were still dating she introduced me to one of her favorite restaurants in town, Westville. She always preferred the one down on Hudson St.: it's the largest so it's easy to get a seat, and it was near a place she used to work. I recommend it if you're near one - we both usually get the market plate; four of their veg sides which rotate daily based on availability. The rest of their menu is solid as well.

Anyway, we were there for dinner one night and as we were leaving I noticed that Amy left her house keys on the table. I scooped them up and put them in my pocket, sure that I would give them back to her before we parted ways (this was when I was still living in Queens and she'd moved to Brooklyn). To get home we went opposite directions on the 1 train, and after a goodbye and waves across the tracks I boarded my uptown train only to notice that I still had her keys in my pocket. 

After I started uptown she got on a downtown local. I was already on a plan to get her keys back to her. I knew the subway.

Getting on the train at Houston Street, going uptown, I had two stops until I could transfer across to a downtown train - and if I was going to catch her I needed an express. At 14th Street I ran up/over and got on a downtown train, and I took a guess as to which door would pretty much line up with where we both got on, as we were standing across from each other on that original platform. 

So she's heading downtown on a 1 local with three stops before she could transfer to an express train. Since I'd been watching the downtown tracks while heading uptown I knew I was on the next express train to Brooklyn. At Chambers Street she got on my train - one set of doors ahead of where I was. The train was too packed for me to try and walk through the car, so at Fulton Street I got off the train, walked up one set of doors, casually handed her her keys, wished her goodnight, and stepped off the train. The doors closed and she headed home, still not really knowing what had just happened.

If there had been a way for me to lean back, put my hands behind my head, have the biggest grin on my face, that would have been the time for it. Aw yeah. Nailed it.