some of my fellow subway riders i see as "commuter friends," y'know, they hold the door open for you, they let you sit down before them, they read the post within your sightlines...there are "commuter foes," of course, they hold the door open for others, they listen to their music too loudly so all you hear are tinny drumbeats, they magically fold the times into those nice rectangles...
then there are those who somehow find their way next to me. the other day, a woman sat down and started furiously brushing her hair. i mean, c'mon. i don't know where you've been or if you have headlice! granted, she was well-dressed and clean cut looking-ish, but in a city of bedbugs, you just never know.
this morning a woman sat down next to me and started to apply nail polish! people, this is not your house. it's a very confined space with limited oxygen. i finally had to ask her to stop, breaking that sacred fourth wall between me and every other commuter.
2 comments:
Well, at least she was painting her nails--not clipping them, which is de riguer on the 2/5 I've noticed.
Also, this one time, I was on the C, with a friend. Totally empty train car, and this dude gets on with a New York Post in his hand, barely covering a brick. That was fucking scary. We bailed as soon as the train rolled into 125.
a homeless guy sat on me once. seriously - empty train except me and my friend, and this homeless dude wanders in from the next car and sat down on my lap. i could barely contain my shock when my friend started laughing! needless to say, we no longer are friends.
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