It was late in the evening. I could have gone home. I was fatigued in the way a woman of reasonable privilege could be fatigued. I have one job, no mouths yet to feed and a low-stress life in the traditional sense, if you discount my subsurface anxieties. My husband encouraged me to stop by the event I was invited to. He said "see all that you can see."
Waiting.
I took the F by myself, in the right direction and didn't miss my stop. The memory of my train blunders from a few weeks prior still etched into my memory. I missed my transfer to the Path, had to backtrack to get to it, missed my train home by a minute, waited an additional hour in Hoboken, and finally missed my stop in Clifton, half asleep mindlessly scrolling, ending up in Paterson with no cash for a cab, at midnight no less. My mom's nervous words, always have a key in your hand if you have to use it at the top of my mind. She was robbed as a young woman in the city years ago, so I understand her reservations. Our parents and loved ones bring with them a set of life circumstances and do their best to prepare us, while letting go enough so we can see and feel on our own. Thank you ma.
Commuter South Carolina Coconut cake from Porter House Bar and Grill.
Back to Paterson: The kind Lyft driver welcomed me into his warm car and I made it home to a snoring husband and cats begging for food, vowing not to get lost in the palm of my hand again, as I sit here writing, not paying attention to my surroundings. But situations lead us to unintended destinations, better than we could have envisioned. A Wharton waitlisted high school student that found home on the hilltop at Georgetown. Nursery school assistant reject turned hostess, that found a partner in the last month of my college career. A fearful commuter that the big city beckoned.
