The joys of autumn subway travel
June 1st, 2013
BY RENARDO BARDEN
This morning. Wind-driven sleet and rain. I pull my umbrella down and close it as I descend the first flight of steps into the subway. Passing through the turnstile, hearing the train rumbling into the station, I list for the railing and skip-race down the steps to the tracks, a scurrying bug, among so many others. The train car doors open as I bound inside, awkwardly, because narrowly avoiding a stomach full of puke, not steaming but clearly fresh and so perfectly situated just inside the admitting doors that I’m convinced it was deliberately placed; so now I’m angry as well as wet.
The car is fullish, seats all occupied and passengers standing in clusters, their backs to the vomit, crowded in other doorways. The robovoice warns of the closing doors and we’re off with a lurch. Now, in the enclosed humid car there’s the sourness of the barf — yet one more thing to contend with.
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Posted by: The Editors
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