Port Authority Bus Terminal. Also known as PABT. And yes, it is VERY similar to that yearly exam from your gyno. Invasive, uncomfortable, and depending on your results after the experience it might just be total devesatation.

First, let’s talk about the layout. This Monmouth beast has 3 floors + the escalator that somehow even though it’s going up, takes you to the bowels of hell aka the 400s gates.  When you walk into this transportation Mecca from the 8th Avenue entrance you are greeted by the empty “information” booths on most days. Those are the good days, because if you’re a tourist asking a PABT worker which gate your bus is leaving out of, ur most likely going to be walking away feeling violated, more confused than before you asked, and doubting your self worth.

They’ve now begun boarding these pits of sunshine (as I like to call them) up and replacing them with automated screens that you type your information into and receive a glorious answer. There are now 4. In the whole building. On the same side.

Now if you’re entering from the 9th Avenue side, chances are ur really lost because no one comes in on that side!! But if you do somehow find yourself on that side, first your going to be confused because you’ll feel like your downstairs, but maybe you are. I can’t really be sure, I haven’t figured it out yet. But anyway, on the 9th Ave. side is where you get most of your tickets from the teller booths. (I think that’s what they’re called). Here you are greeted yet again with the sunny dispositions of the PABT workers. These people really love their jobs, I mean GOD do they love them!

On this side you will also find those really awkward bronze statues in the middle of the ticketing area. They appear to be standing in a line to go through what I assume is a gateway door. Four out of five times there will be an Asian tourist standing behind them also waiting in line. It really is the highlight of this particular area.

Also on the first, or maybe it’s considered the second?, floor there are numerous fine dining options. From the always pleasant Jamba Juice, to the diverse Au Bon Pain with their individually shrink wrapped muffins. And who could forget the light of any Commuters life, Starbucks. I am proud to announce they have now started using a mobile ordering system which will do wonders for the 35 minute mandatory wait time. It might drop to 25 now. We will however  still get to experience the happy shining, Miss Congeniality worthy smiles of the Starbucks employees while we get our overpriced, over foamed caffeinated beverages that we ordered while still on the bus into the tunnel. Let’s move on, shall we?

Now if your just beginning your day you’re going to either walk out onto the street to catch a yellow cab of death or you’re going to head down into the subway. I can’t speak too much to that taxi line that seems never ending, but I can tell you about the joys of  the 42nd street subway stop. Home to the A,C, E, 1, 2, 3, 7, N, Q, R, and S trains. Seriously?! You better have watched Sesame Street to figure out where the f*ck you’re going.

On the plus side, the friendly population of homeless often hold doors for you and provide entertainment with their jingling musical cups. Recycled, so they’re eco friendly too.

Once you make it through the turnstiles is when you’ve really begun your decent into greatness. From the pint sized Michael Jackson to that guy with no legs who plays 4 instruments at one time with 3 fingers to that woman who thinks she’s Whitney reincarnated, you have been immersed into an underground network oozing with culture and diversity. Get your iPhone 6sPlus ready people, you could be witnessing the next Justin Beiber here!! You can say you saw it first!

As you make your way through the throngs of people scowling at no one in particular, you begin to see that there is some beauty beneath the surface of this ever bustling station stop. Intricately tiled walls are designed throughout the main corridors with beautiful blues and greens and yellows. The patterns are really quite stunning. Of course they’re obscured by the downtown Paterson clothing shops and the staple of any urban village, poorly created graffiti that no one understands. Except for the neon orange penis. Everyone understands the neon orange graffiti penis.

Oh! And did I mention you can also buy flowers AND get your haircut while waiting for your train? Really! Joe’s (I think that’s his name) barbershop is always ready to give you a fresh cut. You’ll even get a history lesson from the WW1 vets that always seem to be stationed in the barber chairs while Joe adjusts his bifocals so he can evenly trim you up.

Sigh. Such a beautiful experience.

After you’ve gotten your coffee, hair cut, and taken up the early bird platform matinee, you can now walk the endless miles into this warmly damp, poorly lit tunnel and find your train. If you’re having particularly lucky day there won’t even be vomit on your platform. And maybe, just maybe, your subway car will be air conditioned AND without the stationary homeless woman who’s crapped herself this week. BUT only if you’re really lucky. How’s your karma?

Now if you’re going home through PABT? That’s a different story for another post.

I’m almost there now to start my day, wish me luck people!

#misadventurechronicles