And IiiiiIIiiiiiiiIIIiiiii will always love the D……
By Nora Hogan
Staff Subway Rat
The D train reminds me of the one time I threw up during recess in the second grade: It’s orange, slightly disgusting and oddly nostalgic. Does this metaphor upset you? Most likely; but on some level, you probably agree.
Let’s begin with the MTA’s decision to color coordinate the D with its step-siblings, the B, F and M in the vibrant pumpkin color we all know and love. The seats’ alternating orange hues certainly get me in the spooky mood during October, but during any other time of the year, it’s just damn gross. That brings me to my second point: The D train is pretty grimy. And by grimy, I mean dirty. Lord knows no one has cleaned anything in that silver bullet since it was put into commission. Granted, every subway line in the city is unsanitary (just think of the number of bodies, hands, body fluids etc. that pass through the New York Subway System on a daily basis and then multiply that number by 115 years. . . *cue shudder.*), but the D seems to be dirtier than most. I think that the dingy yellow lighting really adds to the aesthetic.
Although the D train isn’t the prettiest, we must remember that appearances aren’t everything. I mean, do you know another Bronx-bound train that runs express from Columbus Circle to 125th street? I certainly do not. To get anywhere in the city, simply close your eyes once you’ve secured a seat and let the gentle jolting of the subway car dilute your senses into a dreamlike state. Before you even realize it, you’ve missed your stop! But that’s just the magic of the speedy D; for it is a stallion, though it may bear the semblance of a Shetland pony.
When I’m not thinking about germs or the recent onslaught of track maintenance alerts, I actually really vibe with the D. It keeps me in shape as access to the line requires a hike up the mountain that is Fordham Road. When it’s cold and rainy outside, the perpetual humidity of the Fordham Road subway station warms my bones. To hear the D’s screeching arrival sends a shock of pure joy down my spinal cord. Honestly, at this point, I’d probably take a bullet for the D train. Years from now when I’m old and gray, I’ll think of the D fondly, with a hint of nostalgia. But, as of right now, I can say with certainty that the train needs a serious makeover. Too bad the MTA’s prerogative is to add public art to Manhattan subway stations and renovate the legitimately decrepit L train that’s been in need of serious repairs since it was damaged in Hurricane Sandy.
Needless to say, I have a love-hate relationship with the D train. Though I could preach about the whirlwind of emotion I feel for our orange chariot in the ground for days, the most accurate and concise representation of my mixed feelings can be found on the train’s Yelp page. There 74 Yelp users from days past have documented both their love and absolute disdain for the Bronx-bound train. I think that Chita D. from New Erection, VA said it best: “I call you the Dirty D . . . but guess what? You’re *my* Dirty D.”