Apparently, my new thing is taking photos of people sleeping on the subway. Because I have not graduated to the degree of taking candids of coherent individuals, this is my outlet currently. It's fun. Sometimes I just do it and look like I'm adjusting my camera or looking at my day's shots but other times if I have a book or my HUGE September issue of InStyle magazine with me, I use that to shield the fact that I'm capturing their soul in digital format. This time, the Uma Thurman-adorned pages assisted me in my quest.
I love this shot because at first, I took it horizontally and didn't get his backpack and kicks and it was okay but not good enough. The poor guy ... it looks like he had a really hard day. He hardly woke up when we entered each station to see where we were. I kind of figured he was going to Queens with me even though he was already on the train when I got on at York Street. And of course THIS reminded me of my ex-boyfriend's mother. It's a funny story actually and she'd die if she ever knew I was writing it down here. But whatever, she wasn't all too nice to me when I broke things off with her precious son -- so there.
For a worldly individual who has been to many corners of the world and spent decades living in one of the most culturally diverse cities on the planet, I cannot put her down for what she did, I can only laugh (which is what many of her family members do when this story is told). One day she was on the R train heading downtown when she saw an Asian family trying to decide where they were getting off. They were looking out the window to see where they were now and trying to locate the subway map. My ex-mother-in-law (practically speaking), got up and rushed over, taking it upon herself to let them know that THIS was indeed their stop, Canal Street/Chinatown.
My ex always rolled his eyes in disbelief that she actually said this to them and made that assumption that all Asians must be heading there because that's where they belong. It was an honest assumption, I must admit, considering when I saw that this guy was not getting up when I was getting off in Jackson Heights, I had that same feeling. (We all do, we all just don't admit it or get caught TELLING people to get off here because it's your part of town). I thought, 'he must be getting off here, he's just a SLEEPY Muslim Indian. I don't want him to wake up in Forest Hills.' This must happen all the time in New York since we're all so helpful and love giving directions. I imagine that many a New Yorker on the J/M/Z line has offered assistance to a Hasidic family fumbling for their map as they approach Hewes Street. Everyone knows all the Hasids live in South Williamsburg :-)
And since I'm on the stereotype/generalization kick, I went to Yonkers last night to celebrate the knocked-up-ness of a good friend of mine and cannot get over the influx of Irish there. I know that's not new news but I think I'm gonna round up some single girlfriends and take a gander at some of the pubs there. We may find some good craic there (pronounced CRACK, translation=FUN).