I miss not having a car.
Think about this a second. For most Americans, a car is a necessity, like food or dry underwear. One needs a car because most places one wants to go are, like, far.
Living on an island, however, space is at a premium. Things are close together, because they have to be. In
There are also cabs, but who needs ‘em? Perhaps I would have hailed cabs more often if I knew about Cash Cab, but I digress.
Consider all the stress in one’s life one can avoid when one doesn’t have a car. No insurance. No rush hour traffic. No maintenance. No flat tires. No getting named designated driver. No cracked windshields that should really get fixed one of these days. Never a “crap, I forgot to fill up the car and now I’m late for work and gas is how much now? Exxon bastards. If I wasn’t driving a hybrid this would really sting in my shorts.” All that stress that’s always buzzing in the back of the head disappears in a poof, like a hot dog in front of my two-year-old.
Commuting by subway (and I’d even go so far as to say commuting by all mass transit, although I don’t have much experience commuting by any conveyance other than subway and car) is far superior to commuting by car. Plus, being on the subway relaxes me. In the car, all I want to do is get to where I’m going. On the subway, I’m courteous and helpful. One time I even helped a tourist:
“Excuse me, how do I get to Grand Central?”
“Take this train. When the announcer says ‘Grand Central,’ get off.”
See, there’s a camaraderie and a community on the subway. Sure, the guy passed out reeking of urine in the middle of the car is a nuisance, but when was the last time you had a story to tell about your commute to work that didn’t involve road rage? Nobody yelled at that guy passed out reeking of urine. We all just went through his pockets. For the record, nobody found anything. He must have been cleaned out long before we got on board the train. But my fellow passengers didn’t wake him, because he was one of us.
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