Sunday, April 29, 2007

Motion City

New York is what I would call a motion city. Motion is the lifeblood of the city. Its chief operational principle is that all day everyday, people are moving through it, satisfying their necessary wants and needs via going to work, touring, shopping, eating, etc. That's why it is important to realize that when you come here and you are part of the hustle and bustle, you have to act as if you've just been dropped onto a moving treadmill, and if you don't start running, you are going to fall off.
This city maintains itself based on the idea that everyone within it is moving towards something. The city counts on millions of people to ride the subway everyday for $2 a piece. That's how it can afford to charge everyone $2 a day and still maintain its massive transit system.
The businesses count on numerous unidentifiable people to come in and out everyday, simply by the fact that they are making their way through the city. That is why there are so many Starbucks locations. So that if you miss one, or if you don't feel like coffee when you pass this one, you'll be able to hit the one on the next block.
The great thing about it is how pedestrian a city it is. You actually don't need a car to get around, which is great, because I don't have one. Foot traffic is prominent, which is sometimes a drag, because it gets very crowded. But without the crowds, one would not have all the pedestrian opportunities New York presents. Being a pedestrian in New York is a little like being a low-level professional athlete. The game is getting where you have to go and fight through all the people who are going to get in your way, offer you stuff, ask for money, or do that thing where two people are heading straight for each other and neither one of them can decide which side they are going to pass each other on, and so they wind up practically running into each other even though there is nobody else around and lots of space where they could have gone to avoid the confrontation.
In New York, everyday is training, and everyday there are different obstacles than there were the day before. The nice thing about foot traffic is that there are several benefits that don't apply to vehicular traffic. Foot traffic is very similar to vehicular traffic in a lot of its methods, and it might not be familiar to the casual observer, but when you are involved in it everyday with such a high capacity of people, you really come to an understanding of its patterns.
For example, most pedestrians in this city have accepted that the best way to keep the flow of sidewalk traffic moving is to have it set up the same way vehicular traffic moves. Generally, when you are moving forward, you stay towards the right side, just like in driving. If you are faced with stairs, say in a subway entrance or exit, and you are looking up the stairs, the right set of stairs is for people who are moving up the stairs and the left is for people moving down into the subway. If you are riding an escalator and you want to just stand there and let yourself ascend at the pace of the escalator, then you stand to the right, leaving the left passage to those who choose to ascend the escalator at a more Rocky Balboa rate.
The good thing about these pedestrian guidelines is that they are just unspoken rules and not laws, as in vehicular traffic. A person is not going to get arrested for, say, running a "Don't Walk" sign, or walking on the opposite side of the street. These rules are just guidelines and if everybody obliged to them, perhaps it would make everyone's journey a little smoother, but they aren't necessary, although people who really stand by these rules get PISSED! at people who don't adhere to them so religiously.
I am one of these people. I am naturally adept to this city and the motion it carries. I don't look it, but I'm pretty quick and agile on my feet, and if you weren't paying attention, you could probably lose me in a crowd. Fortunately for me, before I moved to New York, I used to practice my weaving and dodging skills in Wal-Mart when I was in a hurry for those bargains. Now that I'm here, I'm just in a hurry because it is natural to be in a hurry.
Everybody's in a hurry.
That's why it is so frustrating to get caught behind a slow walker in a crowd. It is pure agony for people who are trying to walk fast. If you are a slow walker, you need to be aware of all the people who are moving quickly all around you. God forbid you stop. That's the worst. It's even worse if you are a regular walker. I'll be in a rhythm, weaving and dodging, and then all of a sudden, the person in front of me will just stop.
AAAAGGGHHHH!!!!!
I just want to strangle them. I'll be two feet behind somebody, practically stepping on his or her heels, when out no where they just decide that it's ok to stop walking. They don't bother to look behind them, check their blind spot, if you will, to see if there is anybody there, or even shift lanes over to the side of a building. No. They just stop.
"What are you doing, lady?!" I say to myself, and as I overtake her, I turn to see what is going on in front of her causing her to stop. She is putting on lipstick right in the middle of walking! "Honestly, lady, couldn't you wait until you got to the end of the block?" It drives me crazy.
This is what I mean, though.
Halting the motion of the city seriously disrupts its plan of action. While I was on my break one day, I stood outside by the street near the side entrance of the store. Whilst standing there, I witnessed an ambulance come around the corner, lights flashing and sirens wailing, trying to make its way to its destination when it was halted by a car that was double-parked while its driver was inside shopping for books or something. This example just makes me cringe that a person would be so selfish to make somebody wait for his or her life-saving treatment in order to satisfy a personal matter.
Minutes went by as the ambulance continued to wail and flash as passers-by yelled "Hey asshole! Move your car!" to the passenger who, equally an asshole, sat in the passenger's seat, motionless. Eventually, the driver emerged from the store and moved his car, letting the ambulance pass. But this just proves my point. When you are in a city like New York, which moves faster than it can manage sometimes, you have to be prepared to make sacrifices to keep the motion going. If it means letting somebody pass, while you fumble for your MetroCard in front of the turnstile, then by all means, let them pass.
Important things are riding on the motion of the city. It is the lifeblood that keeps the city in operation. While you are moving, however, you have to be mindful of your actions and exercise a certain amount of patience while you are in your hurry. There are more important things than getting to wherever you are going in a timely manner. I got in a little bit of trouble with this last week, as I was in a hurry, dodging and weaving, getting slowed up by slow walkers, and on my way down to the subway. Upon entering the subway, it was very crowded, and I would have had to wait in line to swipe my card at the turnstile. Someone happened to be exiting via the side gate, so impulsively and hurriedly, I saw the opening and went for it. This was a bad move, because not 2 seconds later, I was nabbed by the arm by a pair of police officers, who intended to fully enforce the law to the letter using me as an example.
So now I have a record in New York. Hurray! Obviously, there are consequences to either of the extremes of this argument, as I have illustrated. And if one is to be successful in this kind of city, one has to be able to achieve that balance that lets you get to where you need to be, but without pushing anybody over or putting yourself in jeopardy, to get there; the kind of balance that can only be achieved by timeless self-evaluation and introspective.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

The Bookstore

I've only been working at my new job for a week, and I already hate it. Actually, I hated it the third day I was there, which was yesterday, a Saturday at 9:30 in the morning. I don't mind getting up early for work during the week, but during the weekend, is that really necessary?

The dagger in the heart is that my job is absolutely pointless. It's not really because otherwise they wouldn't be paying me to do it. But it is one of those jobs that is just menial labor. For me, it is purely mercenary. It has no growth opportunities, no fulfillment or satisfaction other than it pays. I work 8 hours a day putting books back on the shelves. I spend all day shifting rows, moving piles, straightening stacks of books in order to cram, shove, and fit the fresh ones back into their places. And there are enough books that it takes all day, usually, and it takes more than one person to do it in this section of the store. No matter how neatly I organize stacks, no matter how cleanly I fit them together, the shelves are just going to look the same tomorrow, and I'm going to have to put more back just like I did all day today.
This is, of course, the type of job that makes one go crazy. It's also basically the same thing I did when I worked at ShopKo, back when I was in high school. Since then, I've graduated both high school and college, and I still haven't graduated the job.
One of the things I cannot even believe is how many books there are. The section I patrol is the review section, which is all books that have been released in the past year or two, have undergone review from critics and such, and have been sold back to us for resale at half price to the customers. So, it's basically like getting a brand new book for half price. They are all hardcover. What is so difficult to believe, however, is the sheer volume of books we have in stock from A-Z according to author, and the vast subject matter pertaining to each book. Subjects that I would never even think to read about, and subjects that I would never even think there would be a book about. Books, I suppose, were the first form of consumable media, so it makes sense that they are everywhere and cover everything, but seriously, a 350-page composition about the life of Tom Cruise? He's not even dead, yet. He hasn't even done anything that important. He's just famous. So now I have to read a book about him? I go through all these books and sort them out, and I just think to myself, "can't these people just write an article? They have to write a whole book?"
No wonder nobody reads any more. I don't.
If I'm going to take the time to read a whole book and enjoy it, it better be good. Going through all the titles and authors and subjects also gets me thinking, "if they're willing to pump out this garbage by the masses, I could pretty much get away with writing anything." If you have one bad experience in your life, you could write a book about it. Or if you are friends with a famous person or pet or something, you could write a book about it. If you know how to cook anything, even if it's not any good, you could write a book about it. It makes me more interested in writing, which is why I sat down and wrote this. I need to keep it up with my thoughts.
Everyday, I think of a new topic to write about. So everyday, I need to sit down and write about it. Pretty soon I'll have my own book, and some kid in a bookstore will stuff it right between An Ordinary Man's 18 Months in Iraq and Get Single! Get Sexy! Get Sensitive!: The Importance of Being a Woman and Never Settling. I could only be so lucky.