Subway Breakdown

Some colleagues and I are establishing a tradition of going out to eat someplace yummy on Friday nights. After a long week of living where the best place going is The Holiday Inn, we head over to the east side and eat in restaurants that cater to the Western palate. Don't discount it. It's the highlight of the week and gets us through the long-dark Wednesdays and Thursdays.

This week, we had decided that we would head over the Indian restaurant. (You know, Bombay is high on my list of places to live next. Talk about some good food.) We had Parents' Night after school, so we didn't get out of school until 5pm or so. We agreed to meet at 5:30 and head eastward.

After my almost-two-hour taxi ride at 5:30 on Thursday night, I was adamant that we take the subway. As leader, my followers dutifully followed me. Oh, the blind leading the blind.

We got on the subway, which was packed crowded, but not uncomfortably so. We are figuring out the rhythms of the subway, so we knew when it was going to get crowded. And it got crowded. Usually, there is some ebb and flow, though. This time, there was just flow, no ebb. More and more people pushed into the carriage.

One stop from our exit, we were all pushed to the far back wall. No one was moving. When we got to our stop, the usual flow of people leaving was pushed off the right was the influx of people was pushing to the left -- right where we were. For a moment, we really thought that there was no getting off. Then my friends made a break for it, and I had no choice but to raise my elbows and push my way through. It wasn't pretty, but we did get off.

I've made the switch between the lines before, and I knew the tunnel was crowded. But I also knew that most people go in the opposite direction, so if you can make it through the tunnel, the platform usually empties out. (The last time I did this, we left the subway to get a cab -- in the rain -- only to decide we'd never get a cab so went back in from another tunnel entrance and found the way easy.) We lemminged our way along the tunnel, went down the stairs... and confronted another crush of people getting on a train.

We knew there was no getting on that train, but they come every 90 seconds or so. We moved towards the center, where the line was a little shorter, and waited. And waited. And waited. More and more people poured down the stairs onto the platform. We had been feeling a little claustrophobic all night, but we realized that at this point there was no leaving. The exits were so packed with people, we'd be hard pressed (ha ha) to make it out.

Finally, other people in line decided that a 15 minute wait was too long and were moving out of the tunnel. A man next to us (who happened to speak English) clinched it when he said the trains usually come every two minutes and maybe we should leave before the oxygen ran out. We were outta there.

I didn't say it, but I was fairly convinced that we'd never get a cab, but hanging out in the cool evening breeze was far better than chilling in the stuffy subway basement with thousands of workers heading home at the end of the day. I probably should have been a bit more patient in looking for a cab, but I sometimes forget that everyone isn't as fond of walking as I am. 

Sure, I joke about being a fat slob, but that's really only in comparison to my rock-hard, mountain-climbing friends. I'm in pretty good shape considering the minutes I clock watching TV and reading books. (Hey, these are serious English-teacher pursuits! I have to work on my analysis and allusion skillz. I don't want to fall behind.) I can walk all day without too much damage, especially now that I DO walk everywhere in my new, car-free lifestyle. My friends, however, are a bit older and a bit more sedate than I. Oops.

It took me a moment to get my bearings and orient myself in space, but once I did, I knew where we had to go. We started walking and flagging at the same time. But at 6:30pm on a Friday night, wasn't no cab that was gonna stop for a bunch of white women. (All you black men out there can laugh all you want, now I know how it feels.) The line at the hotel (not ours, but whatever) was super long without a cabbie in sight. The closest we saw was a dodgy taxi, and we weren't taking one of them. 

By this point, I'm swearing up a blue streak. All I wanted was a nice hot dinner of delicious Indian food and a carafe of wine (or three -- the carafes are small and there were four of us). Cabbies would drive by, empty, studiously not making eye contact so they wouldn't have to stop. We walk. And walk. And walk.

One of my friends had her good map (I had my pocket map, which is great for general ideas, but bad on the details), and I knew where we were and where we had to turn. Yay. And we were getting closer. Of course, she tripped over a hole in the sidewalk (you know, an entire brick missing). She had already broken her foot earlier by tripping over the sidewalk. It is a dangerous place. So we're slowing down and still flagging the taxis. To no avail.

Well. We did finally make it. There was an empty table when we walked in the door. The carafe of wine (eventually) made it to the table. And we ate. And ate. And ate. It was delish. But, it was such a stressful evening, we had to go out to another bar after. 

The Stumble Inn is becoming my favorite place. They serve North Coast Brewing beer (yes, Beth, that brewery), and while they don't have Pranqster, they do have the Red Seal Ale and Scrimshaw. They also have Rouge Dead Guy. All for about 35 kwai, or $5.25 including tip. The music is good. The bathrooms are impeccable. They have a downstairs, a pool room, and a patio. I hear their food is good, too. I could live in that bar. If you come visit, I'll take you there.

Fortunately, lots of taxis are very willing to take you from the east side to wherever you want to go. Taxis in that neighborhood know exactly what they're in for and who they are going to drive.

The moral of the story? Well, there are two lessons. 1) If your friend tells her husband that we're sure to get to the restaurant before him since he's coming from the airport, be afraid. Very afraid. You have just been jinxed. 2) Never pass through Tiananmen around 6pm at night -- either in a car or on the subway -- DON'T. If you can't leave the west by 4:30, just wait and leave at 6. The rush will have slowed down just enough that you won't have to swear a blue streak from frustration.

Oh, and I'm thankful that at least the subway didn't break down when we were on the train.