3: Why My Lunch Breaks Last Three Hours

While I am enjoying life in New York there are a number of subtle customs or occurrences I’ve yet to acclimate to.

For instance, yesterday I took a lunch break from my internship and went to a deli that I’d dined in before but on this occasion there was no available seating. So after I spent some time waiting with my bag o’ lunch for a seat to open up, I decided that I had met the standing-around-awkwardly-in-one-place quota and had to take my leave.

To where, I don’t know. I experienced a great deal of panic. In this city, a suburbanite like myself was not threatened by the potential of a push-in-front-of-a-subway-train or a stabbing or mugging or any other perilous verb (or any string of words to form a representation of a more specific verb). Those things don’t concern me. What does concern me is that when it comes to public food ingestion, Manhattan is ill-equipped in the wintertime. I say “wintertime” because it came to me as I was wandering in a desperate search for a sociably acceptable place to squat and enjoy my panini (the most humorous of sandwich names (of which spell check does not recognize)) that in warmer temperatures the steps of the New York Public Library would suffice, or really any suitable communal urban landscape would do. In other words, the problem is, in part, climatic.

And speaking of the New York Public Library, one such lady had settled on those steps to eat, and she looked cold. Not once (I’m assuming) did she consider the taste. The cold was most likely biting enough to rush the meal and therefore exacerbate the possibility of choking to death. Morbid, I know, but this is a real life concern that has gone unaddressed. I’m trying to wake you up, society.

So I tried to find solace inside the library (if people can read in peace why can’t they eat in peace?) to no avail. Just as I made my way through the rotating doors a security guard was making a cold, thirsty woman throw away her hot beverage because apparently reading and eating when mixed become a safety concern. Ridiculous.

It had passed through my mind that I could go back to work and eat at my desk, but this brings up another (another line of) quer(y/ies). Is it socially acceptable to eat your lunch at your desk? Is there a break room at my work where food intake is acceptable? Would it be stupid to ask such questions to my coworkers, all of which are superiors to myself, a lowly intern? Am I thinking too much into this? Is my sandwich cold at this point? Would the smell of the potato salad I’d purchased be off-putting to those around me? Would the sound of my bag crumpling as I reach for the food disturb the flow of work?

All of these questions were in my brain-mind at some point in time. And after circling the block a few times looking for somewhere to sit (mind you, other restaurants don’t appreciate you bringing in outer-food. It’s food-segregation, I know. And hotel desk attendants look suspiciously upon non-guests gorging themselves in the lobby and retail stores don’t appreciate food stuffs around their products) I eventually made my way back to the office.

Fortunately, one of the people from accounting had just made his way back from grabbing lunch. I followed him into the elevator, watching his every move, taking social cues from his learned experience. He stopped at the fridge and took out a drink, which means we have a fridge. Good information for later on in a situation where I might have a warm beverage that’s best enjoyed cold. Then he went to his desk with his food, which means having food around the desk area is acceptable by at least one person in the work area. The chance of being able to eat at one’s desk has increased. I sit at my work area, cautiously, and eat, but I didn’t enjoy it because I was too concerned with the opinions of those around me, which throughout the meal seemed entirely unconcerned and instead involved in their jobs. Fascinating turn of events, really.

—

Public transportation is another art I’ve yet to gain a masterful hold upon. Commuting, I feel like I’ve got it down. I walk fast, blend in, weave in and out of people and maintain an acceptable distance. At times I’ll get stuck behind someone slow, but I’m usually able to find ways to circumvent and reacquire pace. However where I find fault is stairs, particularly when a number of pedestrians take the stairs and they begin their flight around the same time. Who do I yield to and who do I rush past? How much room should I allot for opposing traffic? When going up, is it okay to take multiple stairs in single steps? It’s very exhausting (not the actual act of climbing stairs but the thought of climbing stairs).

Subway commutes are just as tiring. I spend a great deal of my subway ride considering if my waiting position is tolerable. Sometimes I won’t take a seat because I’m afraid someone else is thinking about taking the seat and if I take the seat they’ll be frustrated that this young man didn’t have the decency to leave the seat vacant for someone who might need it. Or I’ll take a seat because I’m afraid someone’s thinking that I won’t take the seat because I would rather not sit next to them, and I’ll stand up again after taking that seat for previously stated reasons because I’ll realize the seating arrangement is too compacted and it’s making those to my sides more uncomfortable than if I were standing.

Standing presents its own wealth of problems. Am I blocking entry? Am I blocking exit? Is my rear-end impeding the vision and comfort of one of those commuters sitting? Should I hold on to the pole or stand here and find balance? Am I looming over this person sitting?

And then you miss your stop because you were thinking about all these things instead of paying attention. That hasn’t happened, but it could. It very well could.

Peace,

Stephen (Jablonski).