Victor Kerlow
Dear Diary:
I know that, as a native New Yorker, I’m not supposed to look as if I’m actively enjoying any of the performances on the subway. And for the most part, I can appear apathetic when a full mariachi band or a man playing Kesha songs on a kazoo boards the downtown R train during my commute.
But there is a certain time when I just can’t act nonchalant. They call it “show time.†And I can’t get enough of it.
Nimble teenagers throw themselves through the air of my narrow subway car, using only the train poles and their upper body strength to entertain passengers. The uncertainty of whether they’ll hit one of the riders in the head during their act so wrongly thrills me.
Recently during show time, one of the performers hung upside down from his knees on the long horizontal pole above a row of seats, held his fist out to each passenger and asked them to “pound it†as he made his way down the line of seated commuters, one by one. All eight subway riders gave in. Three of them even cracked a smile. I was one of them.
Read all recent entries and our updated submissions guidelines. Reach us via email diary@nytimes.com or follow @NYTMetro on Twitter using the hashtag #MetDiary.
