NYC Subway Rider Edition:
If you want to appreciate having a car… I have the perfect solution for you. Live in NYC, be relatively poor, and be forced to take public transport. Mainly the NY subway system. Alright, it’s great in a lot of ways…I’m totally not a subway snob, but the majority of my time spent on the subway is spent trying: to avoid vomiting in public, averting my eyes away from awkwardness, and stopping myself from punching people in the face.
So here goes…how to Be a Better Subway Rider:
-The Train is Not Your Excuse to NOT Join a Gym: This phenomenon is pretty exclusive to the male commuters…but ladies, there is an addendum for you too. Now, I get that the gym is expensive, and budgets can be tight, but if I see one more person using the overhead railing as a pull-up bar, I will waterboard you. This is typically behavior of drunk Guidos but I’m also looking at you popped collar frat guy. It isn’t cute, funny, and moreover it makes you look like you may have something you’re seriously compensating for in your Southern region. Every time you do this, I’m silently wishing that some nasty fool ate some fried chicken while riding the subway, used the rail as a napkin, so you slip right off, smack your little gelled faux hawk on the seats below and learn to behave. Ladies, the only note I have for you is this…I understand that you had a tough childhood, but you really don’t need to express your angst by exhibiting your best stripper moves on the pole. We have to put our hands on that. I’d reallllly prefer to not have to involuntarily touch where your crotch once existed while commuting to my 9 to 5.
*Some ideas to deal with that childhood angst: Xanga, Myspace Music, and bottling your tears and selling them on Craigslist (I’m positive there’s a market for this).
Honorable Mentions in this category are: conga lines, push-ups, and hip hop dance crews that almost kick my teeth out during rush hour.
-The Train is Not Your Bathroom: OK…I’m not even going to state the obvious about doing #’s1/2 on the train…because if you are reading a blog, I’m going to assume you have the mental capacity to not defecate in a public space. So we will chug on forward (train reference…I’m lame). Do you want to accidentally blind innocent people? Do you want me to have to walk with one of those sticks to feel where I’m going and inadvertently almost fall into a deli trap door? No? OK. Then think twice about cutting your f*cking fingernails on the train. You, over there…you aren’t catching them all…your renegade finger shards are flinging around the train car like little crap-encrusted boomarangs…just ready to induce lifelong blindness or at least wage a war of social-life-hindering Pink Eye.
Also, I agree, you stink like garbage on the 4th of July…but spraying “Smells Like, JLo Glow” perfume that was purchased on Canal street in some sketch backroom, while riding the train is really foul. I’d rather have a face-to-face encounter with your midsummer pit stains than be locked in this steel coffin, scented like a rip off version of Latin music sensation, Jennifer Lopez. Oh, unless we are on the 6 train, headed to the Bronx…b/c then it would make sense. Spray away.
Honorable mentions in this category are as follows: nose picking, hair brushing, and plucking your eyebrows.
-The Train is Not an Audition, Concert, or Listening Party: Why is it that the music blaring out of someone’s headphones is never like…Arcade Fire, or the new Bon Iver album, or even some nostalgic 90’s hits like “Pony” by the artist Ginuwine? I feel like Apple has engineered their headphones to only let really bad music escape from their devices so we are forced to upgrade to better quality headphones to drown out our neighbor’s abhorrent taste in the Rock and Roll genre…I’m looking at you Chad Kroeger, lead singer of the worst band ever created, Nickelback.
So, someone once told you that you had a “nice” voice…they lied. You can’t hear anything with “Umbrella” playing at 160 decibels in your ears and therefore you have become tone-deaf and are causing every cocker spaniel (and me) in a 2 mile radius to have a mild stroke. Save it for the shower, or have a kid and sing to it…because they can’t run away with those little under-developed legs of theirs and they are required to love you.
Honorable Mentions in this category are: humming with no music, playing video games with the sounds on with no headphones, and talking to me without the go-ahead.
-The Train is Not Your Personal Library: The train is packed, I’m actually starting to digest the girl’s hair in front of me…YOU ARE TAKING UP ONE PERSON’S WIDTH BECAUSE YOU’VE GOT TO GET TO THE NEXT LEVEL OF BEJEWELED ON YOUR iPAD. I am very excited for you that you have such a fun piece of technology (yay for you butthole)…but when we are all just powering through sardine-like conditions, Imma need you to put that away. Yes, you too Kindle lady, Danielle Steele will still be there after we unload some of these bitches. And the worst subway reader award goes to Newspaper Guy. You have the Korean Daily News spread just about as far as your average sized arm can stretch…you could fold it (because its paper) but nah! You’ll just spread your arms Kate and Leo style until your muscles start to atrophy while making me smell your fingers from two seats away.
-The Train is not a Restaurant: Reference my previous post HERE.
Last thing, no babies, no bikes, and no shopping carts during rush hour.
Making less people hate you…one post at a time,