Last week, I was lucky enough to blow the engine on my City car, forcing me to be "carless" for a while until the damage is repaired. So while Allan has been nice enough to drive me to work, I have no choice but to rely on the lovely New York City subway system as my ride home.

It has been so long since I have taken the train that I actually gave the "very friendly" token clerk at the Rector Street station on the N and R line $1.50 - despite the fact that the fare was raised to two dollars over six months ago. Upon going through the turnstile, I was greeted by that smell that was just as yummy as it was the last time I took the train. Something between feet, old, stale water - and rotting meat. The train, however, did come quickly - which was a good thing because it took me away from that lovely smell.

The best thing about taking the train in New York City is seeing the look on the faces of my fellow commuters. The expression on their faces can be read as someone who does not want to be on the train - but has no other choice - and that is the absolute truth. Nearly five million people a day depend on the New York City subway system as their only means of transportation to and from work - but would rather walk on their hands then have to spend another minute riding the Iron Horse. My personal favorite thing about the subways is when a train stops dead in a tunnel and the passengers are told to be patient and are thanked for their "cooperation." Call me crazy, but I would not consider being held hostage in a train with no other option but to wait for the train to move again as "cooperation."

Besides the obvious messes that are generated by the conditions of the trains and the stations, the "friendly" service offered by the token clerks and conductors - and the fast and timely schedule that the trains always adhere to - I love the characters that you run into on the subways. Not a day would go by that I would not have someone singing, doing tricks, asking for money - or reading Psalms from the Bible for their fellow passengers' enjoyment - whether they liked it or not. In fact, yesterday when I took the N train - I was forced to listen to three Mexicans in full attire playing banjos and singing songs. And when I got on the Q train - a not so normal man was echoing every word the conductor was saying - while adding a few of his own. No wonder I once heard a comedian refer to the New York City transit system as, "a moving mental institution."

My car will be fixed in a few days and I can go back to sitting in New York City traffic rather than enduring the fun that is the New York City subways. But having to take the train this week was a nice reminder that since the last time I have taken the subway - the only thing that has changed has been the cost to endure such a glorious ride home.