The M Train was, as recently as 2014, a warrior of the 6th Avenue line. But times change, and they change fast. Despite an increase in service (service that's mainly useful to kids partying on weekend nights in the LES -- such customers DO comprise a ridiculous percentage of the Bushwick/Ridgewood population, mind), this train has not gotten better. It has gotten worse, in fact -- in only a few years. Much, MUCH worse.
Where to begin... First of all, if it's Monday Morning, you can bet your mama's sweet ass that this line is running with SEVERE DELAYS. If you're riding northbound from the Metropolitan Ave. end to Midtown as I am, there's a 1 / 5 chance that the delays resulted from some f*ck up at or north of Long Island City (i.e. from Ely Ave. onward). Theoretically, this shouldn't affect a commute from Ridgewood to Wall St. or S. Williamsburg to Midtown. Theoretically. In real life, your "trusty" M Train WILL sh!t the bed someplace horribly inconvenient, like Marcy Ave. or on the Williamsburg Bridge. YAY! Now, you have the distinct pleasure of choosing between a hike to some freakishly crowded fresh hell (o hai, L Train!) or piecing together some labyrinthine patchwork commute that will have you arriving at your destination close to an hour late for sure.
What if it's not Monday? Are you safe, dear M Train customer? HELL to the NO! A Tuesday, Thursday, or Saturday just means your chances of enduring commute conditions that'll render you an incoherently babbling ball of rage are SOMEWHAT lower than what's typical on a Monday. AKA, your chances of enjoying a decent commute still ain't so hot. Chances are high you'll have to play-act at ignoring the G-D'ed, MF'ing S.O.B. smirking across from you, nearly BEAMING with pleasure as he blasts that iPod with no headphones for maximum passenger annoyance.
Chances are somewhat lower -- but still aren't great -- that you'll be selected as a prime narcissistic supply source by the prodigiously spangled, profoundly balding, man tits-deep-in-midlife-crisis jerk skulking by the door as he trolls for a confrontation. And, if you're a female, chances are pretty darn good that nothing and no one can help you become less fascinating to the creep who spends the entire ride looking you up, down, and sideways with his repulsive, lecherous stare. Oh, you're married, you say? Yeah, I tried not-so-subtly flashing my wedding ring, too. It turns creeps on even MORE.
Even if none of these things happen -- and I will admit, I've had rides where none of them did -- at least one item out of this list, if not 3, 4, or all 5 (!!!), will be your train-ride reality:
1) You WILL wait for 3-4 F Trains to pass before 1 M crrrrawls into the station and/or you WILL wait at Essex-Delancey or Myrtle-Broadway (or both) for at least 2 J Trains to pass, OR
2) You will sit pointlessly between stops because the conductor isn't comfortable with the pace unless it's making you a minimum of ten minutes late, OR
3) If the train is crowded and you are a seated female passenger, you'll be shoved into a tiny sliver of the bench by some jerk who's MAYBE five feet even in shoes, yet whose masculinity (or, if female, humanity -- yes, BOTH sexes do this so-called "manspreading") depends entirely on deftly s/he can splay those tiny twig-legs to occupy his/her seat AND at least 75% of yours, OR
4) If, by contrast, you're commuting at the same time the most popular NYU night courses let out, your peace will be disturbed by some crazy chick who fell off the turnip truck in Times Square 6 months ago. And today, she saunters around train cars, eavesdropping on people and feigning grievous emotional harm from same so she can justify getting up in strangers' faces, shrieking every SJW cliche and speech-ban demand her indignant, self-satisfied ego can conjure ... OR
5) SHOWTIME. 'Nuff said.
Summary: If you're on the M Train, and are commuting anywhere between the Myrtle Ave. corridor of the 'burbs and some stop in the city during AM or PM rush, chances are very VERY good your commute's gonna suck.
And when the L Train closes next spring? Oh, SH!T...!!! read more