Category Archives: Subway

Scariest Work Commute Ever


So last night I get home and my roommate proceeds to tell me about her commute home from work. She was standing on the subway platform and noticed a commotion behind her so she looked to see what it was and noticed a dark complected man standing on the tracks with his arms out like a T. Someone went to the station agent and told him he had to stop the train that was coming and my roommate, as I also would have, started freaking out. She heard the train coming and looked away…when she looked back, he was gone. She asked a guy by her if the train got him, but apparently it was the express train and he was on the local track. When she wasn’t looking, people had pulled him out. Not sure what happened to him after that.

But seriously, if that had happened to me, I would have thought I was going to die right there because of all the terrorism stuff that has been going on here. I wouldn’t have been able to think anything but suicide bomber. So. Scary!



I saw a woman wearing this watch on the subway on the way to work the other morning. I want it!

Subway Watch

I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell

This morning I was next to a girl on the subway who was reading something – and it is my habit always to look at what people are reading. I couldn’t see the cover of her book, but I could see the top of a page. I looked for a title and found a chapter title – The Blowjob Follies. I thought how audacious she must be to read a sex book on the train or a “romance novel.” Then she turned a page and I was able to see the cover. The book was Tucker Max’s I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. Then I smirked and watched her laugh at the ridiculous stories the rest of the ride.


Smushed in the Subway Doors

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.

Your book stepped on me

I am currently reading Laura Bush: An Intimate Portrait of the First Lady because I recently read American Wife and I wanted to compare it to the truth just so I wasn’t basing my opinion of Laura Bush on a work of fiction.

On Sunday I got on the subway and had my book in my hand. I opened it up and shifted my feet a little because it was crowded. The man sitting in front of me sort of squirmed and made a face, so I said, “Oh, I’m sorry, did I step on you?” He said, “No, but that book did.” All I could think to say was, “Well, she’s a Democrat.” and that was that – which isn’t even entirely true. She was raised in a democratic house and is more liberal than her husband, but never had strong political beliefs, views, or associations. She calls herself Republican by marriage.

It really bothered me that he commented on the book I was reading. He was an old black man (with graying hair) who looked very put together. He was sitting with a teenage black girl who had a book about black history in her lap and the entire while I was on the train he lectured her about the black people of America and the difficulties they have faced. That is in no way my issue and I do not intend to have a discussion about that, I just wanted to give an idea of my perception of this man and why he would have said what he did.

While everyone is entitled to their opinion, I am also entitled to the right to read what I please without people making comments or vocal judgments. It is my prerogative to read about Laura Bush, just as it is to read about Jacqueline Kennedy, Michelle Obama, Hillary Clinton, or Adolf Hitler (not that I am comparing these women to him). My point is that these are historic public figures and I read about them to gain some knowledge whether I agree with them and their views and opinions or not. I didn’t comment on the book on the young woman’s lap – by all means, read away, just as long as you are reading.

I felt like there was so much ignorance in his comment. While he might disagree with the politics of her husband, to react so strongly doesn’t really do much. It was not his place to say anything and honestly, while I might be overreacting, I am slightly offended at the judgment I felt. I am reading a book so that I can get my facts straight and form an educated opinion. While I don’t have to agree with her to read the book, I feel it is necessary to educate oneself on topics across the board. Ignorance is the result of people who choose not to learn about something, or to ignore it (although, ignoring something cannot always be blamed on ignorance).

It’s bothering me now that in his judgment of me, I am in return judging him. Call it a defense mechanism, call it humanity, call it what you will. I just prefer people to not comment on the books I read.



So if you’ve ever ridden an escalator in New York you probably know you stand on the right and you walk on the left.

When I get off the train in the am I try to be the first one out the doors so I can be the first one to the escalator, otherwise I end up getting stuck behind someone who just wants to stand there or takes 10 seconds for 2 stairs. This annoyance of mine has led me to a theory. I theorize that these people who stand on the escalator, rather than walk up it (all knee and back problems aside) most likely hate their jobs. I walk up because I want to get to work. They stand because they don’t want to go to work. It’s that much more time before sitting down in front of their computers.

So, I have decided that these people who stand on the escalator either have no where to be or are that much less happy with their lives than myself. I think it sounds like a reasonable take away. If you want to get where you’re going you will show it in the speed with which you try to get there.

I might not have hit the nail head on, but I think it’s food for thought.

My weekend

Friday: Dinner with tbf and his family

Saturday: Watched Tech beat A&M!  Went to Central Park and took pictures of fall coming!

Then I went to Hill Country to watch Texas maintain their #1 spot in the BCS.  FUN. TIMES.

Sunday: Mass at St. Patrick’s at 10:15 am.  It was PACKED and all the tourists hung around after to take pics of the Cardinal who performs that mass.  I’d never gone to it before, I wonder if it’s always that way.  Saw a pidgeon in the subway on the platform on the way home.  I felt really bad for it because there’s no food down there for it and it’s likely to get hit by a train.  *frown*  At home I cleaned and baked, then hung out with some girl friends and finished mom’s scarf I’ve been working on.  I thought I might like it better finished, but I don’t.  I like the pattern, but I just totally hate the yarn.