With all of these snow storms whizzing their way around the city the subways are bound to have a few delays. Who is to say that these delays aren't a little like Christmas and as fun as a sunny afternoon in the park?
On a very particularly wet Thursday I was trying to catch the 6 train after work so I walk into the subway and see the platform full. Hmmm, I says to myself, I think I'll walk down to the end of the train so there will be a better shot of getting on the next train that comes trucking into the station. As any other impatient person standing on the platform, which is everyone who has lived in NY for more than 4 months, I lean over the edge to check for the lights at the dark end of the tunnel. After a few minutes my faith in the MTA, that there will always be another train, is once again confirmed as the lights came into view and I stepped back behind the yellow line to safely await my sliver express. To my dismay, the train was packed tighter than a can of sardines. Well I went against all other instincts to push my way onto the train, as we all know there is always room for one more. However, this was the one exception. I decided that the luxury of not being sandwiched by 23452 strangers was the primary objective for the evening, so I didn't bother with this train. My fellow subway riders on the platform were of the same mind and we all waited while the doors closed and the train went on its way.
Then the waiting game resumed, and pretty much every 30 seconds you tilt your head over the side of the platform to see lights down the tunnel hurdling toward you at unknown speeds. Literally, you don't know how fast they're coming because it's so far away and all black. But eventually the next train did come into the station and low and behold it was the same situation. Train packed to the gills. I still decided it was too much of sardines for me, however, this time the folks on the platform didn't as such agree with me, and they were set to get on the train. 4 people pushed their way into the train and the last guy had all his weight leaning toward all the riders of the train, yet his backside still hung heavily out of the train door parameters. That's when the bells rang letting everyone know that the doors were going to shut. The doors started to close, sadly for this guy he wasn't quite to one side to only deal with 1 door, he was sort of off to one side but in the way of both doors. I figured that the doors would try to close once and then open again for this guy to get his booty out of the way. But the doors were set on getting shut, and not giving second chances. The left side started its journey to the meet the right door, which got stuck only a few inches into its journey and contacted the man in the way. The right door promptly opened a little, and it was at this moment that the left door made contact with the guy, who incidentally was blocking its final resting place. When the left door opened the right door gave closing another go, and obviously hit the guy again because he hasn't moved any which way. The right side opened a bit again as the left side hit the guy again, then the right side, then the left side, then the right side, then the left side, then the right side, then the left side, then the right side, then the left side. I couldn't believe my good fortune as I wasn't the bloke in the door getting kneaded like they were in a bread maker but got to witness this beating first hand.
Now I know some of you would say that I'm prone to exaggerations, but I don't exaggerate the really funny things, obviously because they don't need any additional bits to make it funny. But this went on for 20 seconds. I couldn't keep a straight face, neither could the girl next to me on the platform. Someone took pity on him and let him into the train, all except his bag strap which they didn't bother to try to get inside the train. Once the lardy bloke was in they took what they could get and off they went.
On my next subway ride home that evening I was reading one of the Georgia books, "Dancing in my Nuddy Pants", a title that I haven't particularly had any embarrassment reading on the train due to my laughter comatose which inhibits me from looking around the train and catching any reactions from the title that I just can't keep hidden. The oldie bloke that I was perched next to on the train took the opportunity right before my stop to say, "That's a funny title." "Yes, yes, it is." I didn't particularly want to talk to him about my book that dealt with dancing, alone, naked. But he sure wanted to talk about it. I guess what I should have said was "Look lardy old bloke, it's a teen series that I thank the good Lord for everyday, and yes the title isn't as such one that would be American. I have to go now." Instead I found that ignorevousing was a great tactic. It ne'er fails.
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