Stories from the F train. Pt II The F train appears . . .

A light at the end of the tunnel . . .

. . . the rustling sound of the train approaching the station . . .

The F train pushed it's way into the train station releasing a bevy of uncertainty from my shoulders. There was a slight hop in my step. I'd never felt so relieved to step onto a train. I sat down and turned on my iPod. I took a look around and a bit of reality crept in (life's way of letting you know the oasis is an illusion).

On the trains in NYC, everyone is sad and quiet. Much of life in an overpopulated city like NYC can be devoid of emotion. I turned my iPod down to listen for something . . anything. To be quite honest, I'm not sure what I was listening for.

When I got to my connecting stop, I figured a simple transfer to the R and I'll be on my way. The train stops, I hear an announcement (spoken in NYC train gibberish), my heart sank. I knew something was wrong. I walked (NYC speed walking, a combination of walking and running) towards the R track entrance, on my way I see that it's closed off. I walk over to the booth to the talk to the attendant, but an Asian woman in her mid-20s had beaten me to it.

"What happen to R train, please?"

"Da train no come here [he's Jamaican], you have to go round up dere, den turn, den go back down to dee oder train."

(My jaw dropped.)

I start to walk away slowly, confused (a common sight if you see me in the subway). The Asian woman seemed innocent and nice, almost out of place in this somewhat shady Brooklyn stop. There's an unspoken rule in NYC of avoiding strangers (which is everyone!) on the subway. I decided to test if there's an exception to this rule.

"Excuse me miss, what did he say?"

"I don't know."

"How do we get back to the R?"

"I think he mean take the train back to Atlantic-Pacific."

"Where is that at?" She points in the direction of a set of stairs then hangs back so I can walk ahead of her. I suppose anyone would look creepy at 3 am.

I make it to the platform and it's over loaded with stranded, quiet, sad-looking weary people. I took a seat and blasted my iPod again. The people beside weren't the usual tired late-night workers I'm accustomed to on the weekdays, they looked like drained bar hoppers. Strangely (to me at least), the only sign of humanity were two gay men embracing each other.

I looked away and spotted the Asian woman looking at a map. Working a new job, struggling to pay bills, and trying to adjust to life in a new city has taken a bit out of me when it comes to dating. Perhaps I use these as excuses to not take a chance. I've used them before to fall into my comfort zones, but I end up more miserable than ever (hence the life of a writer!).

I had no idea which train was going to show due to construction, the track's signs misrepresented what stop it actually was.

I felt lost. Lost in my thoughts, lost in the train station. Catching the Asian woman in my peripheral view was starting to mess with me a bit. I still had no idea how to get home. I was hoping the forthcoming train would take me to Atlantic-Pacific straight up so I can forget about this night.

When your stranded, minutes rolling by seemed like hours. I looked at my cell phone and saw that it was now a bit after 3 am. There were a few people looking down the tunnel waiting to catch a glimpse of the coming train, a common sight in most subways around the world. The R train passed by on the opposite side of the tracks without stopping, merely taunting the tired, impatient people standing by.

I tried to relax, but I was restless due to being in an unfamiliar situation in an unfamiliar setting. The uneasiness of this stop was developing into anxiety. Thoughts of my decisions and their outcomes were racing through my mind. I don't want to admit it, but I missed my family and friends back in Michigan.

In that one moment, I felt more alone than words would possibly be able to express. Somewhere in my heart I knew this path was inevitable. I had a case of self-inflicted arrested development. My destiny has always been in my hands. I used to think it was Michigan holding me back, but it was always ME holding ME back.

The small vibrations turned into a thunderous roar indicating that the train was pulling in. I gathered my mind and myself and saw that the M train was pulling in. Everyone boarded the train in a seemingly orderly fashion. I decided not to stray away too far from the Asian woman who was my only guide back home.

It felt like I was thrown from one station to another. Trailing behind one stranger to the next with the Asian woman being the only indicator that I was heading in the right direction. At one point, I felt like I might be unintentionally stalking her, so I approached her and explained that I'm from out-of-town. Come to think of it, that was probably the worst idea I had that night, besides listening to drunk people. Explaining my aloofness was a worthless cause which probably further alienated me from her.

My trip back to home was filled with one last surprise, I ended up in a coach by myself. I decided to take this happening with stride and I walked around and twirled around the pole once or twice. I felt some relief come over me.

I arrived in Bay Ridge eventually, stopped by the B Stop Deli and ordered a Turkey Club (no cheese this time), walked into my apartment and crashed . . . it was 4:15. I couldn't help but think it was a "smart" phone that took me on this wild trip. A "smart" phone is only as smart as it's user and it's definitely not drunk proof.