While waiting in Penn Station this week I encountered all the usual suspects that dwell below 34th street. There are your men in business suits pretending to read the paper so they don't have to make conversation, young girls in short skirts and high heels that can barely stand up straight, and of course there are "the crazies". By "crazies" I mean the people that are talking to themselves and screaming in the faces of random strangers. Of course when I witness this I run and hide in a Dunkin Donuts. And get a French Cruller while I'm at it, just to take away the nerves.
The other group of people that inhabit Penn Station are the police. Seeing them standing there (or on their horses) in their crisp blue uniforms, toting guns at their hips really puts me at ease. I know that if a loon is to approach me he or she will most likely be detained and I can go on eating my donut.
Those feelings of ease quickly disappeared when I spotted a policeman who was staring down at his phone, texting! I was outraged. How can this official, this man who is supposed to protect the entire commuting world from bombs and pyschos and friendly people who won't stop trying to chat with me when he is busy texting away on his phone?
I decided to do what most people would do in this situation, I slid along side of him and tried to read his text message (ok, maybe most people wouldn't do this, whatever). As if I weren't infuriated enough, on closer inspection I saw that he was not texting, he was Facebooking!
After this experience, I thought to myself, this is New York City, the city where nothing should ever come as a surprise. Should I really have been surprised to see a policeman Facebooking in the middle of the city, not really. But is this what I should come to expect? I hope not because I've really enjoyed eating donuts and reading tabloids while waiting for the train, I would hate to have to give that up for a Facebooker.
