Streams

Love Can Happen Anywhere - Even on Mass Transit

Monday, February 14, 2011

WNYC
I'll never stop dancing with you. (Photo by Dan Dickinson/flickr)

One would think Cupid, a Roman god, wouldn't hang out in the subway. But given the responses we received after asking couples who met on mass transit to share their stories, we concluded the God of Desire has an unlimited Metrocard.

In 2009, Daniel Espinosa, in town from Connecticut, was waiting on the Downtown 6 train platform at 33rd Street around 6:30 p.m. after wrapping up a business meeting. He sensed a woman was standing behind him. He turned and saw Rebecca Stepler, who was headed from work to her home in Brooklyn.

"I asked her if she knew of a good place to go for a drink," he said. "You know, I was playing a little dumb."

He may have been an out-of-towner but he knew where the bars were. In fact, he had plans to meet friends at a bar in a couple of hours.

Rebecca rattled off a list of establishments. Daniel listened politely, without really listening. When she finished, he got to the point: "Will you join me?" he asked. She thought to herself, "I'm not that kind of person." Then she thought: "What the hell. It's only a drink."

They took the train, got off at 14th Street, and walked a couple of blocks to Nevada Smith's. Over beers, the strangers warmed to each other. "She thought I was genuine, I guess," Daniel said. Rebecca said their conversation was unusual for two people who'd just met because it was "so natural."

Two hours later, Daniel reluctantly left to join his friends. Except that's not where he was going. Rebecca said, "He actually had a couple of hours to kill because he had a date."

A date?

"Yeah," said Rebecca. "I'm the one who usually tells that part of the story."

They laugh about it now because after that chance encounter on the platform, they began spending weekends together. Four months later, he moved into her apartment in Downtown Brooklyn. In March 2010, they married.

We heard the same story arc, with varying details, from many others.

"I was teaching a stage combat workshop at NYU," wrote Susan Gosdick, when one warm night she decided to walk past her usual N / R stop and get on at the next one. So did a man named John. On the train, he recognized a manual she was holding. "Pardon me," he said. "Are you a voice teacher?"

And so another tale begins, one that it will end with words: "Here we are, 7-1/2 years later."

A few people noted they fall in love on the subway every day -- silently, behind the sliding doors of their hearts. But no one wrote with a story about abruptly sharing an eye-lock across a crowded car that produces an instantaneous incandescence, as happens to Gwyneth Paltrow in the movies.

Stories of subway love usually start with one person cautiously sticking out a foot from their isolation pod. "You learn to be very wary as a woman traveling on the subway," Gosdick said. Yet she talked to John. Today she marvels at the chain of circumstance that placed them together -- on a rush-hour train, no less. "It's funny that this is the way my husband and I would meet."

And why not? Mass transit mashes up anywhere from four to seven million people a day in New York City. Surely some are bound to recognize, in the artificial moonlight of a subterranean cavern, the one they've been waiting for.

Hear the story of how Phil Denniston popped the question to Jen Hixson on the subway.

Did you meet your partner on the subway? Tell your story below in the comments section. To read more tales of love underground, go to Transportation Nation.

Tags:

More in:

Comments [2]

Whoops. Please forgive typos. Busy work day!

Feb. 14 2011 02:44 PM

In 1990, I was working on the 80th floor of Tower 1 of the World Trade Center for a Japanese news radio broadcaster and put in a late evening. Cortlandt Street station was pretty empty. A homeless woman squatted and urinated. It came out not as a stream, but in a rather disturbing splash.

A petite woman hurried to my side. I'm nearly 6'5" and was clean cut and suited in those days, so perhaps I seemed to offer some promise of security. We hit it off. Her call later, to say she'd arrived home safely, included some hotter subtext. We dated for three years, with some shorter-lived returns in years following.

In the mid-'90s I took the initiative while returning from an event at Columbia University. I strode over on the subway platform to strike up conversation with a woman who nicely balanced a sense of femininity with solidness. I must have been better looking or more charming back then, as things accelerated at breakneck speed that night. We dated for a year or so and even lived as roommates later.

My last subway match was in '98. A nearly 6' blonde beauty looked a bit confused on the Times Square platform of the 7 train. I asked if she needed help. She didn't know which side of the platform would have the train she needed to take across town. I snarkily said, "The only difference between this side of the platform and that side of the platform is that there's a train on this side and none on that side."

Somehow she forgave my teasing. We bantered while waiting -- she was a Polish student in NYC for a few days after working as an au pair elsewhere. Our conversation flowed. A few weeks later I received an email from Poland that sparked a three year long distance relationship, kept alive by wonderful visits. Just last night, as I was cleaning, I stumbled across a hand-written love letter from her. At the bottom was a drawing of us meeting under the "Flushing" sign of the 7 train platform at Times Square.

In 2002, I feel in love again on the subway. This time at 59th Street and 5th Avenue. I was on a Central Park star party (telescope) date with my then-girlfriend, a sporty brunette, when I spotted a redhead. This blaze of unexpected vibrancy raced past me up the stairs. I dropped everything in pursuit.

I cornered the object of my immediate affection and waited. Out from behind a MetroCard machine came the redhead, with lunarly huge green eyes. And a chewed up ear. And extra toes. We swept up the cat, and immediately cabbed him down to Petco on Union Square. Before we arrived, my girlfriend gave him a name: Oliver. The cat rescue ladies caring for the caged hopefuls instructed me to first take care of my new buddy for his full medical once over before he could join the others. Naturally, I took care of that and more...he's hovering over my head, balanced on the closet door, as I write this.

Now does meeting a woman as she enters Grand Central, cutting through Earth Day New York's "EarthFair" count? :)

Feb. 14 2011 02:42 PM

Leave a Comment

Register for your own account so you can vote on comments, save your favorites, and more. Learn more.
Please stay on topic, be civil, and be brief.
Email addresses are never displayed, but they are required to confirm your comments. Names are displayed with all comments. We reserve the right to edit any comments posted on this site. Please read the Comment Guidelines before posting. By leaving a comment, you agree to New York Public Radio's Privacy Policy and Terms Of Use.

Sponsored

Feeds

Supported by