I am older and colder. I can feel it. Every time I stepped on the subway, I could feel myself toughened up. Every time I heard a homeless person begged on that train ride, I could feel the sympathy slowly drained out of my blood. It is an unspoken rule on New York subway. If you don’t already know the person before boarding the train, you don’t talk to them when you are on the train. You should not even make eye contact. If you board the train and you casually chat up the person near you as if you are flying on planes, we’ll know right away you are a tourist. If you clap for the break dancers or singers on the train, you are a tourist. But sometimes a little change wouldn’t hurt anybody.
This morning, I saw a lady playing with her hair while sheepishly talking with a guy in safety construction vest. She giggled and he bended down to listen to her clearer. It was 8am and they already looked happier than anyone else on the train. She reached out to grab his arm to pull him closer to her. It was always noisy on the train. Hey, do you want to give me your number? The guy smiled from ear to ear. He panicked a little tapping all over his shirt looking for a pen. Use your phone, silly. He realized and pulled his phone out quickly. It was only 8am on a Wednesday morning but I already could tell nothing could make my day better than that. It was little moments like that that made people believed in the magic of New York City.