Published 2026-02-09
tag(s): #random-thoughts #nyc
I got off the bus at the Port Authority Bus Terminal. It's not exactly the most glamorous
place. Then again, it is a bus terminal, and it fulfills its mission. What should happen in
there? We all get off the bus singing "New York, New York" while doing a synchronized
dance?
Sidenote, there's a plan to more or less rebuild the Terminal, and I have a suspicion it will
take too long, cost too much, and achieve very little of substance. I mean, the US is a bit
better than Argentina when it comes to state-run projects. Or is it? I am not sure. After 10+
years, you see as much the differences as the similarities between the
countries...[1]
I started walking to the train station. I like to take the exit on 42nd street and walk
outside, rather than doing it all underground. The familiar disabled veteran was on the corner
of 8th avenue, despite the cold.
Next to the subway entrance at 7th avenue, a guy covered in bags was smoking. Is it wrong to
assume he is homeless? Maybe he is "only" crazy[2]. You never
know, in this place. I timed my walk speed to pass by in between the puffs of smoke.
I got on the 3 train, annoyed that people were standing in the door instead of walking in. I
hate with a passion people that don't take off their backpacks. I pushed them all, with a bit
more force than needed. That showed them, for sure.[3]
I start heading left, and I see now why there is no one one there. A woman is sleeping on the
small seat, her head resting on a cart full of bags. The cart takes enough space that no one
is sitting across her.
"Well, right it is", I think. In Spanish.
That is not a given, by the way. At this point, my head is a linguistic mess. Most of the
times it is fun, though.
Anyway, I turn right, push some more backpacks, and I see why so many people are standing on
this side too. There's a homeless guy sleeping on the seat. His legs are shaking, and I feel a
hint of sadness. I have enough time in the trip to wonder how long he's been on the train, and
think there must not be a lot of alternatives for him, in this cold. At some point I realize I
completely lost track of the podcast I am listening to, so I rewind it and pause it for the
trip back home.
Finally, I get off at Wall Street and start the walk to the office. I brought breakfast from
home, so I can take a different route than usual, no need to stop by my bagel guy.
The sidewalks are still lined by piles of snow, and I see I can cross the street between a
small clearing on my side and a clearing on the other side, where steam is coming out of the
storm drain.
As I approach the drain, I see a rat trying to climb out of it. It falls down, but when I take
the next step, the little head pops up again.
Now, I've seen much bigger rats in Buenos Aires. Well, in New York too. It's not so much that
I was scared by this little guy, but I figured I didn't want to risk a rat bite. So I took a
step to the side and made a little jump over the snow. I was immediately reminded of a musical
scene from The Critic.
I am not as short as Jay Sherman, though. The rest...ehhhh.
I still like living here, by the way. "Here" means the "NYC metro". I don't
live literally in New York City, but still.
I think the city is awesome, and unique in many ways. I happen to like our NJ town, too.
It is interesting, though, that it took me years to get used to being close to the
mountains in Denver. In comparison, I normalized living here much faster.
I had a similar experience when I stayed a few weeks in São Paulo for work, many years ago.
The metro area of the city is about the population of all of Argentina, and I very
much enjoyed how different the city is from Buenos Aires. Still, I felt comfortable pretty
quickly.[4]
Same with New York. The sense of awe lasted a few weeks, and now it is just another city -
once in a while I take a moment to absorb the skyline, or Times Square, or some other uniquely
NYC detail. But most days, it feels like a place I naturally fit in.