train karma

Lately I've had excellent train karma. I don't believe in karma, but I hear it so much lately that it's crept into my vocabulary. In fact, I'm not even sure how people that believe in karma define it. If they were reading this now they might say I'm creating bad karma. Perhaps I should have said that everything is going pretty well between me and the MTA.

For instance, last night I entered the 40th St. entrance to Times Square Station (I avoid the 41st St. opening due to a chronic, unidentifiable, horrible smell and don't go in at 42nd St. because of the hordes), walked down the stairs and immediately into the quiet, Frigidaire®-like interior of the 2 Express. A usually crowded train, this afternoon it felt spacious. At 96th I walked across to the 1 Local, which had been waiting just for me. I had almost an entire bench to myself. I arrived at my stop in record time, with the refreshment of a 12 minute nap and the free lemonade passed out by the conductor (lie).

The previous evening a woman who did not appear to be insane stood up on the southbound BX1 bus on the Grand Concourse in the Bronx, no less, and wished everyone a wonderful evening before de-busing.

And this morning, seats all the way - commuter paradise.

Sandy's train karma is definitely not as good currently; she spent a total of 40+ minutes on stalled trains this weekend. I'm determined not to rub it in, as doing so might ruin my currently awesome train karma.