Tiffany and I were outside the bar the other night, and we ended up chatting with a young man who happened to be walking his dog, Pickle. He was new to the city, and, after discovering our pessimism toward this city of ours, he asked the simple question, “why?” While there are many reasons to dislike the city (and here’s just as many reasons to love it), I told him that the better question is, “when do you know its time to go?” The answer for me was, “the day you snap on the subway.”
The glorious subway.The subway is certainly one of the most infuriating experiences to be had as an NYC resident. During my commute each day from Brooklyn to Manhattan and back, I spend minimum of two hours on the subway. If your journey is similar, you’ll agree with the top 3 things that annoy the fuck out of me while on the subway.
The leaners. If the train is clear, this is a golden move. You can lean against the pole comfortably, and do whatever it is you need to do with your free hands – drink coffee, read a book, play on your phone, whatever… But if its rush hour, and I’m desperately trying to squeeze my hand about your head, then compromise a little and move. I hate playing the game of pushing you passive aggressively, hoping you get the point on your own. I also don’t want your hair or your boobs pressing against my hand. Just move.
The sliders. You’ve resigned yourself to holding the pole and are carrying along placidly. Then, all of a sudden, you feel a warm mushy hand resting on yours. You move down – they must not have noticed… A few minutes later, it happens again. What. The…. One more time. Finally your anger takes over, and you sigh obnoxiously loud and move as high as possible. No one will reach you now! You may have won the battle, but they won the war.
The racers. You’re waiting for the train, and it feels like forever. You see the headlights in the distance. Finally! You shuffle up to the yellow line, and awkwardly angle yourself toward the doors. The train approaches and slows to a stop…BOOM. This mother fucker is now in front of you already entering the train. Screw the people getting off, they are pushing their way in for a seat – your seat. These are the same people who squeeze behind your ass as you’re sitting down, the ones that throw themselves into the jam packed train, and the ones that stop right outside the door when exiting. Would it kill you to sacrifice a minute in order to not make everyone’s lives miserable? Course not.
Honorable mentions go out to the kids with their music so loud that everyone on train can hear (trust me, odds are that no one likes your shitty taste in music)… The kids who wear sunglasses (there’s no sun down here, buddy)… And the self hating MTA employees who insist on dragging everyone into their misery with rudeness and overwhelming loudness.
Three cheers for NYC public transit!!
If it wasn’t for the occasional hotties on the train (and my outrageously awesome taste in literature), I’d be spending my money on expensive car service.