The Golden Hour

I walked into the Metropolitan Ave. station to catch the G train at 4:05 a.m. after two Belgium beers, some delightful cheese, a cup of coffee, and great conversation.

In my pocket was a list of books, movies, and music to check out. On the opposite side of the platform, Marcus was catching the G back to Greenpoint.

While I waited for the train, I was standing with 30 or so other late-20s/early-30-somes pretty much just like me, decked out in various states of hipster dress and drunkenness.

When the train came at 4:22 a.m., a readheaded girl down the platform cheered.

In my subway car were seven or eight other people. Most of us were traveling independently, though I wouldn't say we were traveling alone.

I got off the train at Fulton Street, and I discovered on my walk home that a golden hour exists between 4 and 5 a.m. during which Mullane's still has patrons at the bar, and la Bagel Delight's lights are already on.

There's a whole side of New York that I'm just discovering now that I've missed for the past sixteen months because I've been working six days a week.

Added to my list of things I'll miss: The Golden Hour between 4 and 5 a.m. when the subway is dominated by my demographic, the bars haven't quite closed yet, and the bagel shops are almost open.