Riding The P train

Some people are just plain sick.

Yesterday I saw something I never thought I’d actually see. Oh sure I’ve heard rumors, we’ve all heard rumors, but to actually SEE someone on a crowded train, during rush hour in NYC, doing something as stupid/stoned/sick as that…?! Well, for a moment I was actually at a loss for words.

But only for a moment.

Then I came to my senses, decided on a course of action and started pushing my way through the crowded train full of disgusted passengers. Not away from the middle-aged man holding the train door open with his feet, but towards him. I’m sure that once they realized where I was headed the other passengers thought I was crazy, but you see, I had a plan.

Meanwhile, the guy I will call Doorman continued with his ‘business’.

At first I didn’t think I’d get to him before he finished, but Doorman had a lot of business to take care of, so even though the train wanted to close its doors and depart the station, Doorman and his Foot of Blockage would not let the train depart until his job there was done. Normally, should someone be crazy enough to hold a subway door during rush hour in NYC, it would cause the rest of the passengers to give said individual such a dirty look that they would spontaneously burst into flames.

Doorman however, seemed to be invulnerable to the NYC Hairy Eyeball of Doom.

In fact, it seemed to me that all of my fellow passengers somehow knew this instinctively. Not one of them on the train would even look in his direction, except to note that he was doing the unthinkable right there and then.

And for the whole world to see, too.

Lucky for me, he was so intent on his business that he didn’t notice that I, a stranger with an evil glint in my eye, was coming up behind him. Facing out of the train, feet spread wide to hold the doors and leave his hands free, I don’t think he even realized anyone was even looking at him.

The sounds of liquid hitting cement were very loud.

As I got closer I could smell the beer like a personal force field surrounding him, helping to ward off any interlopers from interrupting his business. It was a strong defense to be sure, but he hadn’t counted on someone with my iron constitution to come along, and I simply held my breath until I was close enough to do what I had come to do.

The liquid on cement sounds were petering out.

My time was now. The stars and planets had aligned, it was the dawning of the Age of Aquarius and my horoscope read, “Act now or regret this moment while you suffer in hell forever.” Planting my feet wide, putting my hands on my hips and cheating my stance so I was three-quarters facing my ‘audience’ of fellow passengers (who were now openly befuddled by my proximity to the disgusting Doorman) I spoke out in my most Thespian on Broadway doing Shakespeare bellow.

“Hey buddy! I hope you’re going to wash your hands when you’re done!”

Then I gave him a little nudge on his butt with my foot and he fell off of the train. Have you ever seen a guy try to stop peeing mid-stream? It’s damn funny, it is. It’s even funnier when said man is also trying to zip up his pants and run up some stairs to escape the taunting laughter of a train full of New Yorkers at the same time.

Oh yeah, good times. Good times.