From Bowling Green to New York by Bus (Cont.)
Screen 6 of 6

Convinced it was clean and decent, we went inside, where we found along the two side walls scores and scores of small compartments, each with its own glass door which could be opened only by putting the proper coin into a slot next to the door. Looking through these glass doors, we could see all kinds of inviting food -- such things as ready-made sandwiches, salads, fresh fruits, meats, vegetables, and a wide variety of non-alcoholic beverages, with only one of each in a particular compartment.

We found this unusual arrangement for selecting and paying for food exciting and very easy to manage. I remember I put a dime in a slot beside one door and took out a ham sandwich. I believe Carol chose a salad and a chunk of cheese (no wonder she had such a slender figure, I thought) .We both had milk to drink. Not much of a dinner to celebrate our first night in New York, but it was enough for these two tired travelers. Well, it was almost enough! Still hungry, I went back again, put in another dime, and drew out a piece of fresh apple pie, which we divided.

After sitting for a while in the "Automat" and watching all kinds of people come and go, we walked slowly back to the apartment, where I picked up my suitcase and raincoat, told Carol good-night, hurried down the stairs as she waved good-bye, and hailed a taxi. We had parted amiably, with both of us feeling good about our new-found friendship and already looking forward to the next day together.

I soon found the Y.M.C.A., with only questionable help from the taxi driver who drove much farther than necessary to get there. I had no trouble getting a room, after the night clerk made it clear that I must pay in advance ("$1.50 for the night or $8.00 a week," he told me"). In exchange for the money I gave him (I paid for one night only) he let me have the key to my roam on the third floor and told me how to operate the elevator.

It was almost eleven o'clock when I reached the small room assigned to me -- it had been a long, long day. Thoroughly exhausted, I sank to the single, iron-frame bed and fell asleep instantly, still dressed and with the light on.

About two o'clock, I was suddenly awakened from a sound sleep by the screeching siren of a passing fire engine. This big city sound was new to me, and for a moment I was frightened as I rushed to the window, but after watching the noisy vehicle disappear down the street, I undressed, put on my pajamas, and lay down again. (As I look back now on the matter of wearing pajamas at night, I realize again how naive and uninformed I was about this habit. My mother had always insisted that my brother and I wear pajamas every night -- summer and winter -- even though we were relatively poor. "All decent and respectable people wear pajamas or night gowns," she had said many times while we were growing up. And so this first night in the big city I just didn't feel "decent" until I had put on my pajamas. But when I had been away from home for sometime, and especially here in New York, I learned that many people -- "decent and respectable" people, both men and women -- do not wear pajamas in bed at night. This was one discovery, however, I did not write home about!)

For the remainder of the night, I slept only fitfully. During the most of my waking moments I was thinking about Carol; the rest of the time, I dreamed of buses, subways, heavy suitcases, Broadway marquees, and fold-up "Murphy" beds.

The bright morning sun woke me early, and before long I was out of bed, dressed, and out walking briskly up Fifth Avenue, anxious to get on with my first day in New York.

[Vol. 8 Contents]
[TRAVELSTEAD'S VIGNETTES HOME PAGE]
[DAVID'S HOME PAGE]
- 30 -