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Observations on the JMZ line.

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To be sure the JMZ line is one of the world’s most depressing stretches of real estate. Depressing in the sense as much as you think you can always get out, the squalor, muck and grime can never get out of you. What goes on here is a microcosm of the perversity of living life in a sprawling city like NY. Then again, no city will ever shed a tear for you even if you are in the habit of shedding tears…

It’s a lazy afternoon and the grime mixing with the bankers is really beginning to smell. Each one looks at the other with mistrust, the banker because he’d rather not have to look at the papitto who shines his shoes in the morning and Julito because he really ‘don’t give a shit’ about that money and society stuff he keeps over hearing- sure he wants money, lots of it, but he knows it isn’t gonna come easy. He just might have to resort to ‘other things’ if the American dream doesn’t continue panning out…

The train starts off Broad st, deep in the heart of white money and who you see is are the usual sods that make making money as effortless and painless as it can be. As I have reiterated the bankers, traders and the young hustlers furrow over stock reports while the under class pour over their NY Posts and their blank expressions. By the time we reach Canal st, the geographical make up of the train takes a severe change. The bankers get out and hustle for their number 6 line, because that’s the line that takes you to Park ave. China men, gizmo men, roiling cd salesman and the occasional bargain hunter with loaded bags from some city deep in Europe now get on. Papitto and his lot are still there, their expressions bordering on resignation and slight titillation at reading about the latest J-Lo faux pas or what ever it is that keeps people in perpetual malaise.

Observations on the G train.

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1 COMMENT

  1. this is well thought, sharp written with some of most interesting photographs attached to the story line,

    well done!

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