Lately, every time my daughter and I walk by a subway station in our neighborhood, she’s been very anxious to run down the stairs and take a real ride on a “Choo, Choo, Train.” She even pretends she hears the subway from our apartment. Since the MTA in New York City seems to have it in not only for mothers of infants but also handicapped people, I tend to avoid the subway with a stroller. But I’m starting to feel guilty about it. I mean, trains are like the number one most awesome thing for toddlers and I have a train about half a block from my front door.
I avoid the subway for good reason though, there’s only like three elevators working at any given time throughout the 735-MTA-bus-and-subway-station system that touts “unprecedented levels of efficiency.” I guess efficiency is only important for people without wheelchairs or strollers. It’s certainly not efficient when a subway elevator is randomly out of service, requiring you to bump-and-lift, bump-and-lift, bump-and-fucking-lift your giant jogging stroller up three flights of stairs at Columbus Circle.
So today, I took my daughter on her first NYC subway adventure without a stroller. Our destination was Harry’s Shoes at 83rd and Broadway. We entered at 181st in Washington Heights and waited for the A train.
On the way, we switched to the 1 train and quietly ate Graham Crackers while staring at another small boy who was riding the subway too. Overall, pretty uneventful. She sat in her seat like a big girl and held mommy’s hand in the station, just like she was supposed too. We quickly bought some deeply discounted shoes at Harry’s (wanna know what the full prices are? $87-$100. For toddler shoes! It’s an outrage, Harry!) and went to lunch.
After a delicious lunch at French Roast on 85th, we popped back down to catch the train home. It must have been something she ate, because on the way back, Josie really spread her subway wings. It’s a well-known fact among my friends that I hate subway singing. I don’t want to hear your Broadway tune! No one will discover you at 175th street! But, I ADORED it when Josie belted “Jingle Bells” at the top of her lungs on the platform at 86th street. She also sang “Wheels on the Bus,” on command for a Dominican grandmother at 168th street. We both got a “God Bless You” from her, and really, no trip through Washington Heights is complete without a friendly blessing from a Dominican grandmother.
The best was when we saw the bongo drummer from this viral YouTube video at the above ground 125th station in Harlem!
This drummer is Internet famous.
She clapped when he finished and then to my surprise checked her pockets and told him she was all out of quarters! She’s the littlest straphanger you ever did see! She was holding the pole and everything. I have to say, years ago when I would ride the A Train home, drunk off my ass at midnight, I never thought I’d be saying to a little subway singer of my own, “watch the gap,” “hold on when the train starts,” “DO NOT TOUCH THAT URINE,” “you know how that 12-year old next to you just said ‘shut the fuck up, asshole!’ to his buddy? yeah, try not to say those words.”
I guess it’s all in a day’s work when raising your kid in the “best” city in the world. Beats dealing with a damn car seat everyday—that’ll drive you to drink mimosas in the morning, for sure.
