Time

New Yorkers walk the way L.A. drives--fast except when stopped by traffic. We walk with purpose and irritation at anyone or anything that gets in our way. We change lanes quickly, walking into the gutter if necessary, to pass slow commuters. The left side of the escalators are reserved for walking. Traffic lights are mere suggestion of the right of way, at any moment a walker will challenge a car to a game of chicken. By straining against the streets and the crowds, we manage to shave second--minutes even off of our commutes.
What do we do with this precious time we save? We have conversations--debates--about the best and fastest methods of transportation. Like this conversation I recently had with my husband at a party with another friend of ours:
"It takes me 10 minutes to walk to the 7 train from our apartment."
"It does not take 10 minutes to walk to the 7 train."
"Yes it does. Door to platform, 10 minutes. I've timed it."
"Well maybe the way you walk. It takes me 5 minutes."
"No way it takes 5 minutes. Come on. Maybe you could do it in 7 minutes, but I don't believe you walk it in 5 minutes. Are you counting the time it takes to get up the stairs and on the platform?"
"OK, maybe it takes me 7 minutes to get to the platform, but there's no way it takes me 10 minutes."

The irony is that I really enjoy traveling from place to place in NY when I can just relax and accept the time it will take me. There is always a lot going on, stores and people to observe. I can read, ponder, and often even write while on the trains. And yet, I play my own game of chicken when I decide when to leave the house for any given appointment. I squeeze the extra 5 minutes out of my time at home, even if it means the difference between a stressful commute and a leisurely one.

(Maybe I'm just continuing the irony theme that Anne has started on her blog.)