I called the MTA and got them to fix a light in my subway stop

Never Done: I called the MTA and got them to fix a light in my subway stop

There's been a light out in the stairwell coming up from my subway stop for weeks. If you come home at night, it's so dark that you can't even see where your foot should go to land on the step. And that means that you can't see if someone's waiting there to grab you, or if someone's done something on the stairs that you wouldn't like to step in. (Like that euphemism?) Usually I just get off a stop earlier, and walk home further. But the night before last was late and I was tired, and I was carrying extra bags, and I thought that maybe by now they'd fixed it, so I took the train to my stop (Prospect Park/15th Street) and the light was still out, and I was actually quite scared coming up the stairs. It was 9:35PM, and so I called 3-1-1. After I waded through their system, a 3-1-1 agent transferred me to MTA.

And then I started a whole new round of pushing 1 if I wanted to complain about the bus. Pushing 2 if I wanted to complain about the fares. Pushing 3 if I wanted to compliment the train conductors on their diction. OK, not really, but finally I got to push 0 to speak with an agent, and then I got put on hold for another 15 minutes or so. Until 10:02, to be exact. At which point I got a message saying that the office was open until 10PM and I should call back during business hours.

I laughed, I complained, I found it ridiculous, and I hoped I would find time to call the next day. And as luck would have it, my morning commute (I tried the F train again -- bad idea) took 90 minutes just to get to Columbus Circle, so rather than transfer to yet another train that could travel the speed of a rowboat, I hopped off and walked -- and called the MTA back. This time I waited about 10 minutes for an agent, and when I told her that the light is out at my station and that it is dangerous, and that the MTA should fix it, she ambled into the conversation. "A light? Where" In the stairwell? Hmmm, OK." But eventually she gathered all the info, and she thanked me and told me she would "note my concern." I didn't have high expectations for her noting, and I forgot about it until I was on the train home while it was still light out, when it still feels safe to get off at the stop with the broken light, which I expected to be still broken.

But lo and behold! The light was fixed! My call (or maybe someone else's? Or a combination?) had produced results! I had practiced Patience: Do not aggravate a situation with wasted grief, and participated in the civic process and done my part to keep the city safer (and our shoes cleaner.)

I walked between the subway cars while the train was moving

Never Done: Walked from subway car to another subway car while the train was moving

Almost all the cars were fairly empty, so I just got on the car that arrived closest to where I was standing. I noticed the yukky smell right away, but thought it was just the smell of winter. But then as I went to choose my seat, I realized it was a particularly yukky smell, and it was probably the smell of someone's poo, although there was no-one near me who seemed very pooey. I walked to the other end of the car, and that's where I saw the pooey person -- a middle aged man, who couldn't stop scratching himself. I know that can be a sign of crack addiction, but I don't know what else it could be a sign of -- like potentially a mental illness?

So what do you do when you don't want to smell poo, but you also don't want to be another person who ignores the drug addicted and/or mentally ill people in our midst? I guess it's one thing if the person is asking for some help. This person wasn't, and he was big, and he wasn't completely in control of himself, and he smelled like poo. I decided to go to the next car. But I didn't feel 100% great about it. It certainly took care of my needs, but I don't think it did anything to try to understand his burden.

I was going to wait til the next stop, and then just go out and go back in. But I recognized the Never Done opportunity of walking between cars while the train was still moving -- the same thing the mechanized voices tell us not to do. It turns out to be incredibly easy and not even a little bit freaky -- there's a big platform to stand on, and it's easy to open the doors. It's not that I thought it was going to be so hard; it's just that when you've never done something, you don't know.

So the next car smelled fine, and I sat down and took out my book (The Ruby in the Smoke by Philip Pullman) and I started to read. One stop, two stops, and suddenly things started to smell a little pooey again. I looked up and I looked around, and there was the scratching man, sitting in the same place on this car as he was sitting on the other car. Hmmm, so sometimes the burdens of others follow you around to remind you you didn't deal with them. Now, his out-of-control scratching was releasing coins from his pockets, which were falling on the floor. My stop was coming right up, and so I decided to do one little thing. As I went to the door, I picked up his coins and I handed them to him, and I got off the train. It was a tiny thing, but it was a connection.

I held the subway doors

Never Done: Held the train doors

It was icy out so it took just a spec longer to get to the subway than usual. That plus all the clocks in the apartment are set for different times, and I was going by the one that read the earliest -- the one I could see from my office -- and when I went into the bedroom to get a sweater, I saw it was already time to go. So when we got to turnstile above the F train, it was just pulling into the station. I tried to swipe Josh in by swiping twice in a row which usually works, but it didn't this time, and so I ran down, and he came through after me, and I got to the platform just as the ding ding was ringing, and the doors started to close, and he was still on the stairs, and I got on, and put my body between the doors, and I held the doors and didn't freak out.

If you grew up where I grew up you would have never told this story. You would have told a story more like this: It was icy out so I put on my ice skates and went ice skating on the pond. I skated for a long time and then I got cold and came home and made hot chocolate.

But really, I have tried to hold the doors before and other passengers had to step in to help me out. Once I left Josh standing on the subway platform because I freaked out and failed. So I'm actually quite proud that I did this, and that nobody got hurt. But here's the thing. The subway announcements all say that holding the doors is bad. That it delays the train for others. So ... from a Mussar framework, did I do the right thing? Was my need to hold the door for Josh justified, given that it could have caused delays for others? I am tempted to say yes, because after all nothing did go wrong, and I did not cause delays for others. But what if I had? What was so important that we couldn't have waited for the next train? The honest truth is nothing. We were going to a show (The Negro Problem at Joe's Pub) and when we got there, we waited outside in line for about 1/2 hour. Granted, we got better seats than we would have if we would have been later, but we still would have gotten in, and we still would have seen a great show.

On the other hand, it's good to overcome our fears, right? And to become more physically daring -- especially women, especially as we get older? And the chances that I was going to break the subway door were really very slim. That reminds me of a story my mom used to tell. When she was in grade school, girls used to lock the bathroom stalls from the inside, and climb out, leaving them locked. They usually did this in teams of two, so one person could be on the lookout for teachers. One time my mom, a socially awkward child who had skipped ahead two grades, so was also two years younger than everyone else, decided to lock a stall and climb out, but she did it alone, and a teacher came in, and the teacher paraded her around the entire school, saying, "This is the student who has been locking the bathroom stalls."

Damn, I'm glad I didn't break the subway door.