Redefining your concept of personal space

In L.A., personal space is defined by being able to see the headlights of the car behind you through your rear window. In NYC, there is no such thing as personal space. You can wish for it, but you aren't going to get it, unless you want to live like a hermit and stay holed up in your 200 sq ft apartment. Space is expensive. And having it is a luxury.

I've come to learn that it is completely unavoidable to be wedged in between two large, heavy set men when sitting on the bus or even a subway. First off, oftentimes seats are curved and pre-determined. It's actually better when they are, because otherwise someone might hog up 2 seats and they won't scootch to make space for you. With the pre-determined seats, you get the occasional a-hole who sits in between two seats (which doesn't make sense to me because there is a bump and can't be comfortable), but most times there is a little space showing where you can squeeze in. So unless you want to stand (sometimes you are just too tired to, and other times you'll find standing is just as crowded), you are going to squeeze your butt in between two large men. I've done it many times. This means shoulders, elbows, and unfortunately, hips, are touching. If I cross my arms and legs and lean forward I can oftentimes avoid any contact - and I do it, because I'm just not ready to touch a stranger!

It also seems like everywhere you go it's crowded or cramped. I don't know how restaurants meet fire codes. I don't know how people in wheelchairs use the restroom. Or even dine at a restaurant. I guess they just don't live here. Come to think of it, I hardly see people in wheelchairs. I never see obese people. Maybe slightly overweight, maybe heavyset (at least on the subway or bus when I'm trying to sit!) but not obese. This is certainly not an accessible city.

I actually feel relieved whenever I reach my little world of Morningside Heights, where the sidewalks are wide and you can actually walk in a straight line without bumping into someone.

On the plus side, it's kind of interesting that on any given day you can see hundreds of different strangers by simply going outside (in contrast, in L.A., you can see hundreds of cars of similar make, model, and color). It takes people watching to a whole new level (except you are often too close to people to watch them, must avert gaze and stare at the ground). Back home, if I was stuck in traffic on a weekend I wondered where everyone was going. You look inside cars and you see people yapping on cell phones, munching on food, or singing along with their radios. Today, I got on a packed downtown-bound A-train at 125th and wondered where everyone was going. Where are you all going!?!

It will take me a little time to redefine my concept of personal space. But, it will take me much longer to let go of my fear of dirt. (That's another topic).