New Yorkers aren’t unfriendly or unhelpful. What folks who think that miss is that we’re always jammed into a too small subway car or a too narrow sidewalk or a too cramped elevator. We don’t have enough physical space, so we give each other psychological space by minding our business. But if someone needs help, we’re there.
Tonight I was riding the 7 train out to Citi Field. At Grand Central, a guy who seemed to be somewhere on the eccentric/addled scale got on and yelled “my man’s going to Kennedy – JFK airport. Y’all got this?” He was intense enough that I looked up and saw he was pointing to a puzzled-looking Asian man who’d gotten on in front of him. He said it again – “JFK airport, y’all got this” and stepped back onto the platform.
The folks in the subway car started talking, verified the route, talked to the man to make sure he understood, found someone in the car who was getting off at the right stop, and deputized him to go with the man to the E train. Y’all got this? Yeah, we got this. We’re New Yorkers.
I’ll never forget when the A train derailed around 125th a year or so ago. No one was seriously hurt but the passengers were stuck in a dark, smoky train for awhile without any communication from the conductor. A guy stood up and said, “All right, let’s do this. Who needs Ativan? I have a whole bottle.” And he just doled them out fucking uptown mood
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