People Watching
A few days ago, doing my NYC thing, I walked onto a subway train headed downtown. I noticed two young police officers inside.
It looked like they had been riding that car for hours. One was leaning against a hand rail, the other on a post in the middle of the car. They looked thoroughly bored with one another. I imagine they probably had a conversation at some point, but it had since burned out.
There's not much to do when you're on subway detail. After 9/11, NYC placed thousands of officers underground to ride the subway cars and cruise stations for suspicious people. As far as I'm concerned, every third person in NYC looks suspicious, so I don't know what they're looking for. But I don't mind riding with em one bit, though I think their presence deters more muggers and drug dealers than it ever will terrorists.
I think about how mind-numbing their job must be for agonizing stretches. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Then nothing. I feel a flash of superiority about my profession. I have a job that keeps me interested day in, day out. Hour on top of hour.
One of the officers looked like he was reading the subway ads. Scanning one after the other. He had his hat off, holding it down at his side exposing the inside of it. A clear, plastic pocket was sown into the lining. And stuffed inside the pocket, a copy of the Lord's prayer.
Then I realized the importance of his job, and the insignificance of mine.
I appreciated that moment. I looked up at him with the intention to say, "Thanks man, for what you do." That's when the doors opened for my stop, Astor Place. So, instead, I smiled at him. He didn't notice. He just watched as people filed into the car.
GM
It looked like they had been riding that car for hours. One was leaning against a hand rail, the other on a post in the middle of the car. They looked thoroughly bored with one another. I imagine they probably had a conversation at some point, but it had since burned out.
There's not much to do when you're on subway detail. After 9/11, NYC placed thousands of officers underground to ride the subway cars and cruise stations for suspicious people. As far as I'm concerned, every third person in NYC looks suspicious, so I don't know what they're looking for. But I don't mind riding with em one bit, though I think their presence deters more muggers and drug dealers than it ever will terrorists.
I think about how mind-numbing their job must be for agonizing stretches. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Then nothing. I feel a flash of superiority about my profession. I have a job that keeps me interested day in, day out. Hour on top of hour.
One of the officers looked like he was reading the subway ads. Scanning one after the other. He had his hat off, holding it down at his side exposing the inside of it. A clear, plastic pocket was sown into the lining. And stuffed inside the pocket, a copy of the Lord's prayer.
Then I realized the importance of his job, and the insignificance of mine.
I appreciated that moment. I looked up at him with the intention to say, "Thanks man, for what you do." That's when the doors opened for my stop, Astor Place. So, instead, I smiled at him. He didn't notice. He just watched as people filed into the car.
GM
posted by Greg Monaco at 1:52 PM
1 Comments:
Keith used to have an american flag that some child in some elementary school somewhere had made for him.....it's in the house now, all faded. but it was his good luck charm, and i guess his reason for getting through deployments. this time around, it's pictures of the kids that take him from day to day. oh, and his psp.
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