I wrote a review awhile ago of the new N trains where I expressed my generally pleasing experience on these shiny new trains. I'm glad I savored that experience, because I haven't had many opportunities to ride it since. After a long day at the office followed by an exhausting post-work session at the gym, the D train is the primary chariot on tracks that delivers me home.
Leaving the gym and walking outside where the brisk Soho night air immediately cools me, I cross the street against the oncoming traffic towards the subway station, while holding my palm out at the taxis and cars that boldly inch closer to my biological body than I preferred. That action is silly, because it's an inherently flawed act of self preservation. A gym might provide the milieu and means by which one creates a stronger body, but that body is no match against the physics of the force a metal moving object exerts against a fleshy object that stands in its way. (Insert Krytonite footnote.) And yet, my palm acts as an urban amulet that compels even the most sadist cab driver to slow to a halt. Or so I hope. A friend of mine, born and raised in New York City, is an expert in this and has perfected it to practically an art form, or what I call, "Extreme Walking."
Extreme Walking is walking from point A to point B by the shortest route possible while ignoring street signs, moving vehicles, and construction.
Try it.
Just make sure you have health insurance first.