Yesterday morning while on my way to work, the 7 train was very crowded, as it always is. New Yorkers never want to move into the middle of the car, because then they’re not as close to the doors and they can’t get off as quickly as they would like. Being the last stop across the river from Grand Central, this poses a problem because by this point the trains are very crowded. If people don’t move into the middle of the car, a lot of times there won’t be room for me to get on.
Yesterday was no exception and I was the last person from the bunch at our stop getting into the car. The people in front of me didn’t move far enough in and I was trying to squeeze in before the doors closed. The train driver, who of course is on a schedule, will close the doors to make his point that you need to get in or out. He closed the doors right on me and it hurt so bad. I should have just pushed the girl in front of me into the car, but I really didn’t even think about it until after.
Last night when I was getting ready for bed I noticed a bruise in a weird place on my arm and wondered how I got it. I didn’t figure out the answer until a few minutes ago when I discovered another bruise on my other arm. It’s long, thin and straight. It looks as if a subway door hit me there. Interesting.
Now I’m irritated that I have bruises. Next time I’m pushing the person in front of me into the train.