Today on the L Train

I bought a pair of suede shoes online last week and had them delivered to the office. They arrived this afternoon. I put them on and showed them off. Martha said they looked nice. Taylor asked if they were comfortable. Simone said it was a mistake for me to buy suede shoes because I like to jump in puddles and run out in the rain and generally don't take care of my things. She basically called me childlike. Or a slob.

Feeling challenged, I wore the shoes the rest of the day. We had several inches of snow over the weekend and the temperature is now up in the forties. So the sidewalks are wet. But I felt confident that I could prove Simone wrong and demonstrate that I'm a responsible, orderly adult. I wore the shoes when I left the office, walking with my shoulders squared, taking pleasure in the near identical shades of brown in my shoes and jacket.

The sidewalks were damp, but had been shoveled of snow and therefore presented no challenge. I walked to the NQRW trains without incident. I found a seat in the front car, which would make my transfer at Union Square easier. Additionally graced by catching an express train, I was downtown in a moment.

At Union Square I exited the Q train and walked to the stairs to the L train platform. There was a crowd gathered on the stairs, not moving. I pivoted and craned to see what was causing the bottle-neck. On a landing of the staircase was an immense puddle of water. I couldn't tell what caused it. I use this staircase on almost every trip home and had never seen so much water there before. There wasn't a drain or a burst pipe in sight. A broom was laying in the puddle, an abandoned attempt by someone to disperse the wetness.

Two of those plastic "slippery when wet" signs had been folded and placed in the puddle to allow passengers to use as stepping stones across. I watched as one-by-one men and women hopped across the puddle, from a dry step to a moist landing. Some chose to leap wholly across while others quickly used the yellow signs.

I wavered in my thoughts. The quickest, most direct route to the L train was across this puddle. And the water wasn't so deep, was it? Would I get anything but the sole wet? I watched a man about my size jump the puddle. His left foot landed squarely in a couple inches water. A petite woman after him used the plastic signs, each one squishing under her weight and forcing a ripple of water to the sides.

I looked at my suede shoes, non-scuffed and consistent in brown. I decided to make a U-turn and head back up the stairs. I went the long way up to the concourse level and used a separate set of stairs to reach the L train. From my place on the platform I couldn't even see the stairs with the puddle. Or the wet feet of those who braved it.

And I thought, 'tomorrow, I'm wearing my rubber boots.'