Subway Story

[trainrider10]

A story I wrote for English class a few months ago about a tradition, in this case about the Arnines of 2012

 

Prologue:

Every year, for the last few years I have gone and rode a vintage train, during the holidays. Yes this one thing a vintage train, its important. Let’s just says time, travel and trains. You might be curious what is so important about a vintage train. There are several reasons of why this is important. Without the start of these subway cars, there wouldn’t be a subway system today, looking back to 1904, we have made a lot of improvement in the technology as time went forward but 1904 was the big bang of the New York City Subway System. Another reason that this is important is that this train only runs only from the Sunday during Thanksgiving Weekend till the Sunday after Christmas. It’s a nice treat to take a step back in time. But the most important reason of all would be that I have a general interest in transit in general. This transit stuff is in my blood. My grandpa worked in the subway system until 1985, generally the C and G lines. When I was younger I would have plenty of maps, bus schedules and even MetroCards, this phenomenon started when I was just 3 years old, I grew up riding trains and buses, I had noticed I had been pretty much with my mom or dad, that I had rode them a lot, over time I had come to have a general interest for transit. Transit in general had fascinated me. On to the real story behind this tale.

 

The Real Story:

It was the afternoon of December 23rd 2012 and I had been waiting for this day for months, not December 25th, I don’t celebrate Christmas. I had been waiting for this one thing, this one special thing. This one vintage holiday train, to finally ride it. “Come on, pleas, we gotta go this year,” I begged to my dad to go with me this year, as we had gone in years past.

“Alright, alright but we’ve gotta get some lunch first,” my dad had responded to my begging.

“Okay, but the train leaves at 12:33 pm, let’s hope that we make it.”

“Alright but do we really have to walk all the way to 2nd Ave, were like a mile from the station.”

“Please, it’s what we do every year for the holiday train”

“Well… okay.”

I had an excited look on my face and I had proudly started to get dressed and get ready to head for the subway. We make a quick stop at the pizza shop and get some beef patties and head over to the subway and reach the subway entrance for 2nd Ave but on 1st Ave. What appeared to display as a single bullet that read F for the F train wasn’t just for the F train, there was more. Secretly deep into my skull and deep into my brain I had wondered this single question. “Am I crazy, a nut case, or do I have a disability or am I just retarded, in some way for my interest of enjoying transit?” But as usual I just ignored it and I attempted to just go on with the day as normal.

Finally I had gotten into the subway station and I had swiped my MetroCard and had gone for the Uptown and Queens platform as I had knew from years before that the train would arrive on that track. Slowly as I walked down the steps the suspense built up. As I finally arrived on the final step I had yelled, “YES!” My dad had looked at me kind of weird but with a smile too, he didn’t mind cause he knew that I had been excited and that I had waited nearly a year for this moment.

I had run up excitedly and had started to take many photos of the train, as I had no photos of the train. Yet again as I was taking the photos I had still questioned myself for being crazy or was this all just apart of life and that you could be your own person.

“I wonder what would happen if I had ended up posting these photos on to Facebook or Instagram or maybe even both, would people judge me for who I am and make memes of me calling me L train (which meant looser) , or would things just be the same way that they have always been? ” I had asked my dad.

“Just ignore them, they are probably the ones that are losers themselves. They are just bored with nothing else to do but make fun of others, the only thing that would occupy their minds would just be making memes and trolling other people. At least you have hobbies and are creative, you keep doing what you enjoy doing, just stay the nice guy that you have always been and there will be people that will accept you. ,” my dad had responded to my question.

I had really wanted to just take the advice and just call it a day but I had still been in worry but as usual I just had to keep the feelings in, just try to throw away the bad apple and just replace it with something better. I just did not want to be depressed on a day that I had supposed to enjoy.

As I had still walked around in the station I had noticed that it seemed like people had time traveled from the past to enjoy this moment. There were many people that were dressed as if they had dressed in the style of the 1930’s. That temporarily had relived me from being worried knowing that there were people that I wasn’t the only one that was going to do this vintage holiday trip. I had decided to just walk back on to the train and just look around in an attempt to distract my mind from feeling so worried. In particular I had saw one poster that had looked in particular quite interesting. That poster had read, “Parents for safety’s sake teach children… to cross only at corners. Be careful on errands.” There had also been a picture of a dead child, which had really confused me, but at least it distracted me for a bit from the thoughts of pain and suffering.

Then after some time of waiting the train conductor had yelled “ALL ABORD!” I knew that this one year of waiting was worth it, to finally start to head to Queens. As the ride had started I had started to record part of the ride, but yet again I had started to worry about what would happen if I were to run into someone from my school, would they make fun of me for being who I was for recording. I still wondered if there was something wrong with me or was there just no such thing as normal and that being weird was the standard of life. For a while longer I attempted to just stop trying to think negatively and just go on with life.

Eventually the train had made it over to Queens Plaza, which had been the last stop for this train. Usually I had just gone back over to the Manhattan side and just waited for the train for about 20 minutes and take the vintage train back to 2nd Ave and go home. This time things had been different. I had wondered if maybe my friend might show up for this holiday train trip. I was still wondering if he was coming or not. There was a surprise that had been waiting for me, wandering somewhere along the Manhattan bound platform. I had been in for the surprise and finally the surprise came to me, in the form of a guest, but rather a friend. My friend Anthony, the tall one, the one in my school who had also liked trains too, but he hadn’t been at UAG for quite a while though, I figured maybe it was suspension or something like that. At least I ran into someone who understands me and has similar interests as me.

“Yo, was sup, how’s it been?” Anthony had asked me.

“So far, so good, and you? ” I had said, even though I had still felt somewhat depressed, I didn’t want to bring up anything negative about transit, including memes or just anything making fun of the idea of transit, I didn’t want to kill the day.

“It’s been alright, just some minor issues at UAG, some stuff happened, but I’m trying to bet back in,” hinting that maybe there was some sort of suspension involved.

At this moment I had been slightly nervous to talk to Anthony, even though he had been my friend. Just the thought of people just appearing from UAG there while I was talking to Anthony, haunted me. In UAG, I had to play the role of the neutral character, as everyone in UAG was against him. I was afraid of taking a side believing that either way people would reject me. But truly I had been on Anthony’s side, I understood him, even though maybe he would yell “FOAM!” at anything transit related, it was all good with me. I understood that he liked transit too, being a transit enthusiast, like me. I tried to be the good person; I had just felt guilt by letting him be the one to have all of the ridiculing. I felt guilt by being the one that had been silent when he was bothered; I just wished that I could help. Now I was in his situation, being made fun of for my interest of subways. I just had wanted to end the suffering between Anthony and I, there was no way that I knew how to end the pain.

I introduced my dad to Anthony and he had been shocked, believing that for a while I had been an extreme transit enthusiast, but Anthony had been one too. But in the end it was well, now my dad knew that there were people in my school that had been transit fans too.

The train had finally arrived after 20 minutes of waiting and we had gotten on the train and started to head back into Manhattan and I had thought that it would be an Average ride back into Manhattan. Just after the train had left 5th Ave-53rd Street there had been a special curve that the train would use to get back to Rockefeller Center, but on this vintage train there was a specific noise that would be made. “Listen,” Anthony had said as we had almost reached the curve. As we got to the curve and the subway car had made a particular screech, there was this one word that caught my attention that Anthony and a few other enthusiasts had yelled, “FOAM!” The word for me had went in one ear and back out the other, but then that had me wondering what it meant. Most likely a transit related word that had been for something rare. As I had been thinking about that part of my inner conscience had violently yelled at me, “Look at what you are doing, you idiot!”

“But I want to have fun, this is who I am and what I want to enjoy,” the other part of my conscience had responded.

For a while, on this day I should have been enjoying it was constant bickering of myself, things got to the point where my brain shut down. Then I remembered one important thing that I had been told by my dad, “Just ignore the people who insult you, they aren’t important, you can be who you want to be.” Then I just thought that I could be who I wanted to be, and that I no longer had to be scared, that I could enjoy what I want to enjoy, that I didn’t have to be a copy of anyone else, I could be myself, 24/7/365.

“Do you want to do the trip again?” Anthony had asked me.

“Sure but its up to my dad,” I reply.

My dad had given me the nod of approval with a smile as he knew that I wanted to enjoy the day and that I had a friend that understood me. Eventually the train had made it back to 2nd Ave and my dad had went home and I stayed and did the trip once more. But this time the trip felt more enjoyable, as the clouds and Hurricane Sandy of my mind had finally disappeared and finally clear skies in my mind full of joy knowing that I could be myself. After the trip I had gave him one last wave, as I knew I wouldn’t see him again for a while. I had finally made it home and my dad had wanted to talk to me. “Anthony, well he’s a little weird, He just seems a bit strange and awkward though.”

“But its better to be weird, and to show who you are as a person than to be normal, its more interesting to be yourself, not a copy of someone else, because there’s no one I’d rather be than me, being who I am,” I had said with a smile, and my dad agreeing with me had smiled back.

[Daniel The Cool]

Nice story. I would give you a great grade for the story