Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Freak Show

Today I find myself sitting across from perhaps the scariest of specimens I have seen on the New York subway so far.

This man or maybe boy (I have no idea- it was impossible to even tell which decade he was born in) has the longest, most giant dreadlocks I have ever seen. They form a gnarly cascade long past his knees- incredible. And this is just the beginning. His ENTIRE face- every inch of flesh I could see is
tattooed. With what design? I can't tell. He also has multiple facial piercings, including this gigantic grotesque nose plug and cheek studs. The perhaps more ghoulish part of him is his ears. He has those gauge holes only they are the largest most extreme ones you could ever witness. His earlobes are like an elephant's, stretched out to down below his shoulders. The wide gaping holes you could see through are only slightly smaller than a baseball.

He has a lady companion with him-a slight, silent Asian girl. She is freaky too, with dreadlocks that almost match her boyfriend's. Not to generalize, but have you ever seen an Asian girl with dreads? You haven't right?

My friend that I am traveling with swears he sees them take drugs right on the train. I miss it as I am trying my hardest not to look at the spectacle that is this couple.

Monday, January 26, 2009

The Gap

At the Union Square station there is a gap between the platform and where the 5 train pulls in. Every morning this is scary to me. Of course it is not a very large gap, maybe about 6-8 inches wide- definitely not large enough for me to realistically fall through. I'm sure if it was remotely possible for even a small child to slip through one would of certainly have by now and there would be many public lawsuits we would all know about.

Irrationally though, this thought still does not calm my obsession with the gap. The sight of the dark wretchedness of the tracks below as I carefully step over always manages to shake my stomach slightly. I'm sure I look awkward as sin as I straddle slowly into the car while never taking my eyes off my feet.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Being Wierd in Public Places

This afternoon the platform at the Wall Street station is extremely crowded by the time the train finally rolls in. I go into auto mode as I push my way onto the train. I don’t know if it is my newly developed aggressive instincts or simply inattention but I only vaguely notice that I cut off another woman trying to get on.

She grunts at me in an extremely serious tone.
Stop being such a weirdo!

This catches my attention and sticks with me as I shuffle into the back of the car. Whether you have ever really thought about it or not, isn’t it everyone’s worse fear to be thought as of a “weirdo” in a public place? Try to go with the flow, fit in, be anonymous- I feel that this is most people's true nature. To actually be called out on public weirdness shakes me slightly.

On another note, it does seem like quite a surprising choice of insult to someone stepping in front of you on the subway platform.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Clam Chowder

There is a man sitting next to me on the 6 this afternoon who smells. Though there is a stench, it is not bad enough for me to give up my hard-won seat on the crowed train. He is one of those characters that is simply hard to read. He is dressed in dirty, baggy clothes with a backpack but doesn’t seem mentally ill. One of those in between people you can’t quite classify as homeless or as normal. After a minute of trying to figure him out I give up and start reading my new February issue of Elle magazine.


At 14th street a bum gets on the train and starts begging for money. He wanders around the car, calling out for donations. I see this at least once a week and am not the only one who is used to this-nobody gives him a second glance. We all just focus a little bit harder on our rumpled and folded copies of the Wall Street Journal. The bum realizes this crowd is useless to him and starts to mutter aimlessly in defeat.


The smelly guy next to me finally speaks out. Everyone looks up at him- what is he going to do?


Hey man, you hungry? I got some clam chowder in my bag. Want it?

Oh yeh, sure I’ll take it. The bum outstretches his hands.


Now this guy has the car’s full attention as he rumbles through his sack of weirdness. We all are watching to see what he actually is going to pull out of his backpack and if the this guy is actually going to take it. Uneventfully, he pulls out a container that very well looks like it could be soup. The bum thanks him and gets off at the next stop.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Rain Rain Go Away

Today is a rainy day. A nasty, should-be-snowing-it’s-so-cold, blowing awful rainy day. One phenomenon I have noticed that with unfortunate weather comes umbrella stands outside each subway station. I do not know where they magically appear from.

Sometimes bad weather is clearly in the forecast, giving these mystery peddlers ample time to prepare. But even sudden rainstorms bring out the umbrellas in full force. Do the sellers wait in the nooks and crannies of the city for the first drop of rain? Do these umbrella genies sell other things when it is not raining? What could they possibly be doing that they are able to drop whatever to provide you with rain protection at a cloud’s notice?

Another thing to analyze- how much money can actually be made by selling umbrellas? I am sure if one is lucky/aggressive enough to get a primo tourist spot in Times Square they can make a chunk but what about the ones outside the 69th and Lex station that I emerge from this evening? It is all neighborhood people and chances are they already have an umbrella. Can the occasional absent minder that didn’t look out the window at the weather and left their gear at home really sustain a whole stand?

This is the $3.00 question.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

The Blind

This afternoon I see a blind man on the subway platform. He is poking around with one of those skinny white sticks. I have seen several blind people around before and each time I am completely amazed. The city can be scary enough on occasion even with all five senses- one can only begin to comprehend not being able to see anything.



As he shuffles around me I wonder just how he manages not to walk right off the edge of the platform and fall into the tracks below. I worry about myself doing that and I have full vision. How does he know he is even getting on the right train? The 6 train and not the E train? How does he know he is going uptown and not downtown? Well I guess sometimes they announce it but even if you can make out what is being said you are already committed to being on your way.


It is another one of those mysteries of survival.