The subway stop that I got on at was further along the line towards Church than I am used to. There were no signs telling me which track led along the direction that I needed to go. I got on the first train that came. There were no markings in the train indicating its direction.

I asked a shirtless boy sitting near the door if the train was going to Court. He didn’t understand me.

Is this train going to Court? I asked again.

It’s going to Coney Island, he said.

I didn’t know the G line went to Coney Island. For a second I thought I got on an F train but there was a big green G in the window.

I sat down and pulled up the Transit app on my phone. If I was going the right way then the next stop would be 7th. It was a long distance between stops and when we finally arrived I saw that I had been going the wrong way so I got out, giving the boy who was little help to me a nasty look.

The waiting area for trains going the other direction was separated from me by the tracks. There were no signs indicating a way to get to the other side. So I walked towards the exit and up a set of stairs. If I had to cross above ground then all of the benefits I had gained from taking a G train would be lost. Once I got up the steps I saw another stairway leading back down to the other side. I did not have to exit the turnstile and thus did not have to pay another fare.

The train came and I got on. Inside was a big, noisy woman with a bunch of noisy kids. She was talking to her friend and not controlling her kids. The train passed above ground before going back down again. I’ve only rode this line this far twice: once when I was applying to the liquor store in Cobble Hill and once when Musette and I went to the lobster roll restaurant in Redhook for our anniversary.

I had to ride with the noisy kids and their noisy mom all the way home. They didn’t get off until some time after my stop. They were probably coming back from Coney Island.


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