The New York Observer has a terrific piece on the many divides between Penn Station ("a rabbit warren" as it has been called) and Grand Central Terminal (an urban palace and oasis). That may be changing, with the planned arrival of the LIRR to Grand Central, and the seemingly dashed (but who knows) hopes for Moynihan Station. The story, however, inevitably explores the notion of divergent status. Gawker points out this gem of a quote:
“The entire point of living in Connecticut or Westchester is to limit your exposure to people who are from Long Island and New Jersey,” said one magazine editor who has been commuting from Westport, Conn., through Grand Central for over a decade. “That’s why we live there, it’s why we wear natural fabrics, and it’s why we don’t stucco our homes. Granted, there are a lot of people in Westport and Darien who grew up on the island and vowed to end all the ridicule by buying a first home here, but these are the people who wear Nicole Miller and practically strive out loud. As far as we’re concerned, Long Island might as well be Barbados—fine for a vacation, but year-round is so not going to happen.”
The piece also explores one of those Penn Station inponderables you never see at Grand Central. The mad, en-masse dash for seats:
"As far as the rush-hour situation, here’s a true story, “ said Anne Gregory, a petite blonde who teaches physical education on the Upper East Side. “I once saw a guy who was practically body-checking his fellow riders when the track number was announced, only to be stopped when he heard a young voice yell, ‘Dad!’ In the insanity of trying to get to the escalator, he let go of his daughter’s hand and started tearing ass. She couldn’t have been older than 9.”
-- Rolando Pujol
Comments (1)
I wish there WAS a Krispy Kreme at GCT though. Then I'd be able to pick up a fresh, kosher doughnut every morning on the way to work.