On My Way

By: Gabriela Yareliz

I like my peaceful homebody moments. I will be in my kitchen, chopping away and intrigued by all of my senses. I learn so much in those moments of edible chemistry. Last week, as I stirred a risotto to death, I learned that vegetable stock and vegetable broth are not the same things. Duly noted.


That said, my peaceful, homebody moments are few. I am always out and about. I have my bag on one shoulder, with The New Yorker poking out and an umbrella stuffed in (because I am paranoid and distrust every meteorologist). The other day, I was walking to the train, and my phone said zero chance of rain that day. I was walking through the rain to the train, mind you. Sigh. The train. I want to talk about the train for a minute.

Last week, it took me two hours to get to work. It usually takes me 30 minutes to get to work. I practically arrived at work to eat lunch. New York, what is wrong with you? It was hot. People were fanning themselves. A little old woman kept yelling at the man beside her, “Do you want me to hit you?!” The girl in front of me was dead asleep with her mouth open. The girl beside me was writing a novel in Korean on her phone or something.

The train was packed and stagnant. Horrible. When we reached a station, there was a train across the platform. People got off trying to escape to a functioning train; and then someone yelled something on the loud speaker, and people angrily marched back into my train.

The trains are as crazy as the people in them. Or maybe the people in the trains are crazy because of the trains–

Then, there was Good Friday. There was a train waiting at the station as I reached the platform. It started as one train and then changed routes three times, while I was on it. I had to get off at one point because I had no idea where it was going after a certain stop. And weirdly, I was completely alone in my car, and the two surrounding cars were empty.


Is train drama the bane of every New Yorker’s existence? New York, you are driving me nuts. What is this?!

Trains are unreliable and strange. There is nothing worse than the feeling of being trapped.

It was a good reminder that in life we shouldn’t be trapped in dark tunnels– not in New York or in our minds. We should be somewhere bright. We need to know where we are going.

Today, my neighborhood is isolated from the world because absolutely no trains are running to it, at all. New York, your stupidity won’t bring me down today.

This ride I am writing to you from is brought to me by Uber.

I am on my way.

Published by Gabriela Yareliz

Gabriela is a writer, editor and attorney. She loves the art of storytelling, and she is based in NYC.

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