Tuesday, February 14, 2006

We Are Being Held Here Momentarily

I could write stories about the New York City Subway every night of the week, just to honor PatriotDave. Here's an example of one from tonight:

8:20pm Finally the Q Train arrives. Get on and wrap myself around the center pole. Hear derranged mumblings from far end of car. See a homeless man with all his worldly possessions sleeping on a bench seat. No, wait, homeless man is out cold. Derranged mumblings coming from old man. Old man inexplicably stands and continues mumbling. Seems highly agitated by an Arabic passenger. Directs most of his ranting at young russian guy. Now that he is standing, I can see he has his fly snapped, but the zipper is down. Exposed to pasty white old man nether flesh. Do not believe he is exposing himself, rather that is fucking insane and hasn't noticed the draft.

8:24pm As we go over the Manhattan Bridge where it is possible to get cell reception, fashionable and profesional looking guy pulls out his phone to order some take-out. (Confession: I have done this myself. Then when you get off the train your food is ready for you to pick up.) Uh-oh, the take-out guy will not give the dude the salad the way he wants it. Dude becomes aggitated, says he will order from somewhere else and hangs up. Begins scrolling through cell phone book looking for suitable replacement establishment. Can't find one! Will not face the humiliation of calling back also, time is running out we are almost under the tunnel again, reception will cut out. Guy yells "fuck" a bunch, sighs and gesticulates so that we all know he is pissed off. Puts earbuds back in and cues up The Supremes on the MP3 player. Very loud.


Linda said...

This story made me think of you and your adventures in the subway http://www.nytimes.com/2006/02/12/nyregion/thecity/12ipod.html?8nyh&emc=nyh

Cupcake said...

Thanks Linda, that was a great story. It had both elements of my subway stories and the time I climbed over the fence. I will say that I would never, never go down onto the subway tracks and I believe this man is an idiot for doing so.

However, last night in my writing class when I read my piece about how much I love riding in gypsy cabs, my teacher was clearly aghast that I repeatedly climb into unlicensed and unregulated cars with strangers. "Why aren't you afraid you're going to be killed?" she asked. I guess because I'm a moron, was my unspoken answer. We face so much danger every day as New Yorkers it is funny how people pick and choose which threats to fear and which ones to blow off.