Let's be honest, January in NYC is like single life after 35; cold and dark with absolutely nothing to look forward to. In my opinion, there is no place colder or darker than the NYC subway in the middle of winter.
I'm 22 years old and new to New York. I moved here from L.A. 53 days ago. During this time, I have fallen truly, madly and deeply in love with the New York City Subway. When we're on the New York City Subway, everyone will be together. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health.
My worst fear about that situation had come and gone without a hitch. I had built all of that fear and anxiety up for nothing. I had told myself that disaster was just a squeaky wheel away and completely missed the opportunity to relax and enjoy the ride as Andrew had.
The best approach is to stare blankly straight ahead at a fixed point roughly 10-12 inches above the other passengers' heads. If you're feeling slightly more adventurous -- after all, you are on vacation -- you can always pretend to read one of the text-heavy advertisements over and over.
Where I'm heading is everywhere and, well, nowhere. I'm started what on Twitter I'll call #24onMTA, and in real life describe as an experience in endurance. I'm riding the New York City subway for 24 hours straight, with no plan other than to just go.
It is not, the "United Christians Brigade," as my mother calls it. Close, but not quite. The Upright Citizens Brigade is the ultimate hub of comedic talent, a religion for some, and a cult classic for the young at heart.
Today, I did the New York City equivalent of stopping to smell the roses: I stopped to listen to the train station musicians. I had 20 minutes until my train, and there were a couple of men sitting in Penn station playing beautiful music.