The Inexplicable

The M20 bus runs North all the way from Tribeca on Hudson St and then 8th Avenue to 59th and Columbus Circle, in the dark of night. Concurrently the M11 travels South on 9th Avenue. Inexplicably the chauffeur of the southbound M11 announces, somewhere around 34th St, that the last stop for the bus is 25th. This means that a bus, chock-full of passengers disgorges them into the black of night, even though it is only 7:00 pm.  Said passengers now must walk the rest of the way that the bus normally travels which is another 17 blocks. What is the thought behind that? At first I thought it was for the bus chauffeurs’ safety, but what about the 50 odd souls who are now groping in some cases,  in the dark.

Looking out the front window of the bus heading South, the line of demarcation between lights and no lights is as clearly defined as if a velvet curtain had been hung.  The feeling is that if the bus or car continued it would actually have to pierce the veil.

[Walking along one dark stretch that boarders a park on one side and tall buildings on the other, I felt apprehension.  What if the person passing me on the right just decided to go for some cash that most everyone in the neighborhood is sure to be carrying.  Not only would no one see what was happening, but there was no way to locate the sound if it should occur.  I walked a little faster.]

At about 1:00 am, the full moon was available to light the streets.  It made all the difference to the late night dog walkers and those walking the streets on their way to somewhere.

More:

The corner trash containers are full to over-flowing and the number of trash trucks that pass them by, are more than I can track.

The New York Times has written, printed and delivered copies of the paper all over town each day.

You can drop off your laundry at the same place you do each week, only now they drive it to Brooklyn to wash, dry and redeliver to where you dropped it off.

You can have a cooked meal at the local diner on 8th, which is packed, because their menu is all short order, eggs, bacon, toast, and their large grill is gas.  Nothing fancy, just the basics. The diner is narrow and so even though there are no lights, the large plate-glass windows make it light enough.

If you have cash you can shop at:  the chocolate shop, the magazine store, the liquor store, the local drug store all on 8th, the store that sells locally made products, a deli that sells packaged chips and non-perishable snacks and a national chain drugstore also opened their doors.  A local coffee shop is boiling and brewing and all the customers are communing on the sidewalk, having moved the tables and chairs outside.

On 14th St and 8th, the wind caught the top corner of a facade that was rather badly pasted onto this building that functions as a boarding house and pulled the front off and dropped it onto the street.  The interior looks like a badly arranged doll’s house.

Everyone may ride the MTA buses for free until further notice; the buses are standing room only.  Because they are so crowded, spontaneous conversations erupt.  One lady said she hoped she made it to the liquor store before it closed; white wine just doesn’t cut it in this situation.  A family I had seen riding the M20 North hours previously, was on the same M11 South. They had gone all the way to 69th to trick or treat for their kids.

That more food trucks don’t dot the corners of The Village.

The Trucks that make available phone charging for a fee.