Manhattan is already being eclipsed. The frenzy, the pretense, the vanity of the city isn't palpable on the Q train on Friday at three in the afternoon. These aren't people rushing off to investment banks or art openings or the Empire State Building. They are people escaping Manhattan, their jobs, their bosses and going home. We cross into Brooklyn.
Nobody seems to register the change.
At DeKalb Avenue a clutch of Russian women board. They stand and chatter in the aisle. Their clothes are cheap and colorful. They all look like children's book editors. We head farther out.