Breakfast in the train

Dan and I eat our breakfast in the train every Sunday, on our way to church. We have done this for a year now, soon after we started dating, and in the beginning I did not approve. Eating where it does not usually take place draws attention, and I feel embarrassed to bite, chew, and swallow so visibly in front of others. “Who cares what they think? We gotta eat so let’s eat,” he would say. I tried to convince Dan to meet earlier so we can sit down and eat instead of eating on the train. But seeing as he barely made it on time as it was, after one month of failed attempts it became clear that meeting early was asking too much of him. I had no choice but to swallow my pride, and my breakfast, in the train.
This morning I ate breakfast on the train. Alone. Today is Monday, not Sunday, and it is my bagel, my drink, and me. You can do this, I think as I walk down the stairs. People will stare, they will not offer to help, and they may even judge you. But you can do this. My hand squeezes the paper bag holding my bagel, the ground rumbles a little under my feet, and the train screeches make bubbles in my stomach. The doors open and the car is empty. Yes! I think. The loveseat is free! That’s the best seat on the train. This is a great start. I plop down in the seat pretending to be exhausted and in need of refreshment. I toss my bag to the empty seat beside me, put my tea between my legs, and reach into my bag to unwrap my bagel. I concentrate hard on my bagel. I do not look up, I do not look around, and while I suspect the pair of shoes across from me belongs to a man I do not check to verify.

My bagel smells delicious. It is toasted, golden, and cream cheese has filled the center. I take my first bite. CRUNCH. It is the kind of delicious that requires me to close my eyes and smile as I chew. My muscles loosen up and I remember Dan for a moment. He would be smiling, too. He would be proud of me for putting my cares aside and eating my breakfast. “Good start to your day,” he would say. I wipe the crumbs and cream cheese from my mouth. 72nd street already? CRUNCH. A few more stops, a few more bites and this breakfast ride is done. With a stomach full of bagel, tea, and confidence, just a few steps are left to reaching the summit of my insecurities. No doubt a plaque awaits me, one that honors my bravery, applauds my strength, and immortalizes my accomplishments. SHE SAT, SHE ATE, SHE CONQUERED. I start composing my acceptance speech and chew with a smile… until I see a pair of feet next to mine, in front of the seat next to me, daring me to juggle. I quickly remove my bag from the seat, juggle the bagel, napkins and tea with one hand, and flatten my bag across my lap with the other. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. Pat, pat, pat. My shoulder touches the shoulder of the lady next to me, my hands starts to sweat, and I cannot decide if I should keep on eating or stop.

I weigh the importance of my pride against the importance of satisfying my hunger, and decide to keep on eating. “Who cares what they think,” I hear Dan say. I look up to face the judges before me, prepared to declare that food is NOT prohibited on this train, ready to defend my right to a breakfast before a long day… and find that no one is even glancing my way. There are a few people reading books, one man playing a video game, and the rest asleep or in deep meditation. I look back down at my bagel, smile, and take another bite more bashfully than my first all those minutes ago. Thoughts float around as the last CRUNCH disappears in my mouth. Tomorrow, I think I’ll have an apple, too.

At Teacher Camp, we worked on personal narratives. We were encouraged to find inspiration in our hearts by thinking of people we love, important memories or lessons we've learned, and meaningful hobbies we may have. With each draft of this assignment came a new love and appreciation for those few minutes Dan and I continue to share every Sunday. A restaurant or diner would not have been the same, and I have only Dan and his inclination to snooze to thank. To his credit, Dan has been very punctual in the past few months and has given me a look or two about being late.