I sang mindlessly along with my iPod, and glanced up to see where the train had stopped. Something was wrong. I yanked out my headphones in time to catch the MTA’s message, “Attention passengers. The next stop will be Brooklyn.”
I panicked, and leaped off the train without a clue as to where I was in Manhattan. Across the platform, an R-Train rolled to a stop. I ran to catch it. As the doors closed and I relaxed into my seat, the intercom interrupted, “Attention passengers. The next stop will be Brooklyn.” Whether planned, or not, I was going to Brooklyn.