@ Nora / how to improve your commute

Nora what a terrible commute, here are a couple of things that might help:

I put in headphones while in the elevator - they help to block out the typical noises: taxis, subways, cell phone conversations, etc, but in your case, it also deters some unwanted attempts at conversation. Note: Reading material and sunglasses, although I don't understand people that wear them in subways, probably also reduce the likelihood of unwanted conversation.

Make use of body language, e.g. dirty looks, hand gestures that say "Are you retarded?", etc. Based on my TSq experience, regardless of where the tourists are from (or in your case what language your suitor speaks), they will all understand your annoyance/borderline hatred. Ten minutes! Are you joking?

As for the heat on the platforms, the AC in the trains, late trains and mysterious liquids, I'm sure the MTA is waiting for a note from you.
As for the Asians, didn't you say that different cultures is what makes NY great?

Morning song

Every Morning at the 45th Street subway station. It is July and it is very hot and humid. Standing in 105°, I wonder why I actually put make up on and why did I actually shower? I decided it was a waste of time and of sleep, there is mascara all over my face, my make-up runs, my hair is frizzy to death, my clothes are sweaty and I conclude that I will go to work in my pajamas tomorrow! Looking to my right I see Mr. Rat again, every morning he looks out of the hole in the wall, seems like he wants to say hello to me so I don't forget where I am, New York. Weird liquid is dripping on my head, moving doesn't work, nothing changes. So I try to ignore whatever might be dripping on my head. My Asian friends are there too, every day the first thing these two men do is spit everything possible out of their body onto the tracks, sometimes this can take 10 minutes. This particular morning, I was especially annoyed and tired, I hear two Mexican guys talking about me. Even though I don't really understand what they are saying in Spanish, I get it. They are pointing at me and giggling like to school boys. I try to ignore it and try to stare down the tunnel at the imaginary train which might appear out of the darkness some time soon. Base on how many people are waiting, it can't take much longer. Some people are already craning their necks down the track, as if that would make the train come quicker. Suddenly one of the Mexican guys is standing next to me. Without hesitation he starts speaking very fast Spanish to me, I stop him and tell him that I don't understand him, but he doesn't care at all. He goes on and on talking while he waves his arms and flashing me flirty smiles. I really don't understand a word and also am not in the mood to talk or try to talk. So I turn my back to him, but this doesn't stop him, and again I tell him that I don't get it. This goes on for 10 Minutes and then the rescuing R train comes, I get in and freeze to death, 10° or less in the train. Even though it seemed totally awkward, I really took my jumper with me and am putting it on now. A scarf around my neck I try not to shiver. I look at all the earplugged, the readers, the sunglasses wearing people and wonder what they might be listening to, reading or thinking. De Kalb Avenue. 105°. Bang! Maybe I should take the next train back and take a shower at home…..but no time for that, the masses push me to the exit and Downtown Brooklyn you got me again. Walking down the street the guys from the petrol station whistle again, the construction workers say hello. I walk by the old and skinny woman who is here every day, dressed nicely in fancy clothes. I can't figure out what she is doing, she always sits on that bench at metro tech, sometimes smoking, sometimes typing into her cell phone. And again, for a short moment I am shocked. The voices coming out of the trees, an art installation which has been there for years, I don't know if I will ever get used to it, it makes me shiver! As I learned to walk quickly in New York, I'm now nearly running. It is better to be ahead of the pack, then to be run over. So I run by all the already quick walking New Yorkers and make my every day marathon to work.

Introduction.

Hi I'm Danny, a friend of Nora's - I'll tell you how we met further down/later on...

But back to me... I grew up in and around NY all my life, while Nora was here she learned the term: "Bridge & Tunnel", I guess that would apply to me. But I attended NYU! Does that make me less B&T?

I always knew that I'd spend the rest of my life in NY, but after school I decided to try something else, just maybe there's something out there that is just as great if not better.

Since then I've lived in Frankfurt, Germany for roughly six years (this is where I met and worked with Nori Flatori) and Chicago for a year or two. Now I've come full circle and I'm again in the heart of Manhattan, currently residing in TSq.

I guess in the future I'll share my stories about NY. Till then, see what they've done in TSq (42nd & Broadway). Someone thought it would be smart to add this outdoor seating area... 1. it's one of the most congested intersections in Manhattan and 2. perfect timing, it's starting to get cold out.

Paolas nightmare

One morning she came into the office and was completely puzzled and we were all curious what had happened to her. She took a few minutes to settle down and then told us the story.

This particular early morning she was on the Q train again, and like every morning; same people and nothing unusual. There were people reading, some with headphones on and others staring at something imaginary, as they have already read the ads on the top so often and still haven't been to any of the doctors who promises to make you another person. At 14 Street a person came in and at first Poala couldn't figure out if it was a man or a woman. He/she looked like a man dressed as a woman, but not like a beautiful drag queen, more like Mrs Doubtfire. While Paola still wondered about this, the lady suddenly started dancing. Like she was in the middle of a strip-club and danced with on the poles. A man that looked like a tourist straight from India, with a turban, started filming her as they seemed to planned this together. This went on and on for several stations, then they got out. As New Yorkers are, most people in the train didn't even react, they went on staring at something imaginary, void of emotion, just noting the event. Because of that, when the lady got out, Paola wasn't sure if all this had happened... this is what she told us at the office. "Have I gone crazy? Or did this really happened? It was so bizarre!!" We just told her: "You' haven't gone mad, this is New York." and went back to work.