Train Arriving at W4 in NYC (Image Credit, MTA)
This post was written in February of 2011, right after I moved to New York City. I’m grateful to have a found a place to finally share it.
I am a newcomer to the City.
The city welcomes those like me everyday. We come with our trepidations and our biases. Then slowly we are absorbed and assimilated into the New York culture of bustle and busyness that keeps your eyes straight ahead and your smiles carefully guarded.
And yet, you who have lived here for years have fooled us. You feign your toughness and harshness. You scare us with your raised brick and a threatening, “What are you looking at, cracker?” (Yeah, that one happened to me.) You present a million ways to die horribly from falling cranes to a knife in the ribs. But beneath it all is tenderness and acceptance that is unlike anywhere else on the globe.
I stand on the subway platform at W4. The time is 4:00 am. And there is peace.
Maybe it’s the glow of alcohol (and most likely other glow-inducing substances) wafting over our attitudes and dulling our prejudices. Perhaps it’s just that we are all tired after a late Friday night of revelry. But I stand in the midst of heaven.
Couples, both gay and straight, softly kiss their lovers with tenderness and familiarity. There are no “hook-ups” at 4:00 am at W4. Those folks have long departed to satisfy their insatiable urges. Only those with real love remain here, content to enjoy these moments as they await their next train.
Laughter greets me as college-aged couples play keep-away with a shoe. This is not a school yard prank. There is genuine affection in the act and no ill feelings are heard through laughing protests.
Was there music? There should have been music. I swear that there was music in those echoing halls, but such is the way with magical moments. Music is always present, even if it’s only in your head or delivered by your ear buds. Music is the great connector and music was there in W4 that night, even though it wasn’t.
In that musical silence, people danced to a slow tune, shuffling arm in arm or leaning against each other in mutual friendship and physical support, continuing to dance long past the time they should have set out for home.
And whenever the laughter fades, the whispered words from dozens of smiling lips rise to form a haze against the low-hanging ceiling. Like a smokey club, the haze hangs above us like a soft blanket of good will.
The A train arrives and I walk slowly to board. I find a seat and slide into it. I am a newcomer to this city. But tonight you have exposed your true self to me. And now I am one of you.
Robert Knorpp is host of The BeanCast Marketing Podcast at thebeancast.com and is President of The Cool Beans Group, a marketing strategy consultancy based in New York City. He likes laughing even more than breathing. You can follow the madness on Twitter at twitter.com/BobKnorpp.
