A Maze of Transportation

     Ever since before the move, I've had so many people tell me "New York? You don't need a car there."  "New York is known for some of the best public transportation." And true, New York is a crazy maze filled with hundreds of rushed people try to get from one point to another, but you can always find a way to get to where you're wanting to be.

      After only a few months away from paying off and owning my little Chevy, I sold it after driving it only three times through the city. Driving here consisted of varying degrees of unending standstill traffic, pedestrians who are completely immortal and will literally dive headfirst in front of your moving vehicle to get across the street two seconds faster, along with instant heart attacks from drivers who should never be behind a wheel ever again.

       To say that the mass compilation of Subways, Buses, and Railroad were overwhelming would be a drastic understatement. 

       Boarding the wrong train that is going the opposite way of of the direction of where you intended more times you can count is the city's cruel way of learning your lesson the hard way.  After a month, however, my experience with this happens more than it should.  There's always that beautiful moment of bursting into the subway car right as the door closes, only to take a second look on the lights flashing the next stop. 

"%&*$#@%" 

     Starting to get comfortable act like you know what you're doing, however, is when New York says "Don't pretend, you Utah Outsider. If you think you know it so well, try THIS." More often than not, New York will then punch you in the face.

     My first anxiety attack came the day after selling the car, and I was fully dependent on public transportation.  After clearly and triple checking the route I was supposed to take, I started to feel like I had a handle on things after 2 out of 3 bus transfers. While making the 3rd connection which would take me the rest of the way to work, I began to feel uneasy. I had a half hour until I was scheduled, and I began to stress for time even though I had thought I left plenty early. Passing a stop, I immediately had a sinking feeling. "Excuse me, this is the N24, right?"

     "Naw, this is the N22. You kin make the N24 bus in abou' 45 minutes."

      "Are you...are you seri- Ohmygaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" I freaked out. I had based my connection off of clock time the bus was supposed to arrive at the stop, and not the actual bus itself that ended pulling up.

     Never behaving rationally under pressure, I lunged to pull on the cord signalling the bus to stop.

     "What ju doin'? This ain't no 24 connection here. You hafta wait!"
     "Ohmygaaaha, I'm going to be so late. I'll walk, I'll take a taxi....I'll take anything."  

     I fled the bus, and stood squinting in an area I knew nothing about, and started to melt in the hot sun.  Apparently, in those few seconds of practically leaping out of a moving bus, I must have expected a sea of taxi cabs would be waiting eagerly to take me the right way. That, or a magical flying unicorn that sprayed rainbows across the sky as we flew. I have no idea why I did what I did. I was standing on the street of a suburb in ridiculous humidity.  

    A taxi shuttle van drove by,and I practically ran after him with my arms wide open.

    "Please...hey. Heeeeeey! I need you! Come baaaaaack!"  He looked at me like I was an idiot (no idea why,) and pointed to the side of the vehicle to a number where I could call for one. 

    Running out of time, I called and reached an operator asking my location. 

    Oops.

    "Where am I?" It might as well have been: "Who do you think you are...asking me such a thing? I'm offended and appalled!

     Frantically, I searched for any street signs I could find.   

    "I'm by....hold on. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" (There was much of this as I jogged down the street, and I made various different filler noises to let her know I was figuring it out.) "I'm by...hold on. Uhhhhhh....eeeeeeee.....waaaaaaaaaaah..... 23rd street? Can you please send a taxi to 23 street?"

    "Where are you at? What city?"

     Oops.

    I had no idea what suburb my job transfer was actually in - let alone the areas on the way which I had gotten off at prematurely. 

     "Hold on. Uhhhhhhhhhhhh.......Excuse me....excuse me, sir?" I was flagging down anyone I could find.
     "Excuse me....what city is this?!"  I got various blank looks from multiple people.

     "Excuse me....what day is this? What YEAR IS THIS? DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!" 

     I was practically chasing little old ladies down in parking lots just to find out where on God's green earth I was at that moment in time.

     An extremely annoyed operator put up with me for a good 10 minutes.

      "I'm by a store? I'm by a streetlight? A stop sign? I'm by other vague locations that could be absolutely anywhere in the entire state and I expect you to magically find me?"

     Somehow, some way we found a common ground where she was sending the cab. As soon as he pulled up, we established that he didn't take credit cards.

       I was a wreck.

       A mad dash to an ATM, a 10 minute ride and $30 later, I made it to work with seconds to spare.

       The best part of the story? A few weeks later I found that if I would have stayed on the bus, it would have taken me right outside my work. Both N22 and N24 end at the same place taking only slightly different routes along the way.

      And now I know... I know far too well now.