Her Life Sucks?

This afternoon I get that much sought-after seat on the E train during rush hour. This victory is short lived. A girl about my own age stumbles into the car. She is kind of butch and tough looking, dressed in tomboy gangsta-like clothes. This is not really of note but the fact is that she is absolutely hysterical. She is rambling incoherently and crying. Actually I think the more appropriate word is wailing. She is wailing.


From what I can make out is that "her life sucks". Why does every thing go wrong? Won’t no one help her? Why will nobody help her? She doesn’t care about the new year because she probably won’t even live until the new year. (It is February). She is obviously borderline insane and very very scary. She sits down right next me. There is nothing I can do, no place I can go. The car is packed. I don't want to get up because she would obviously know it is because of her. I have learned that it is best not to insult the mentally ill.


She continues to carry on and then starts to touch my arm. Yes, she touches me.

Miss, miss excuse me miss.

I freeze. I want to make a run for it but really there is no place to go and and I don’t want to piss her off and have her come after me. She looks me right in the eyes and is about to say more. I brace myself.


Suddenly, an almost as crazy homeless guy comes through the car ranting about something. He is nearly as bad as this girl. She is distracted by him for a moment and fortunately takes her attentions off of me.


At the next stop some people get off and I move over to the back of the car. Safe. However Wailing Girl now gets up and starts making her way toward me, ranting about her temper. Am I going to be knifed on the E train at 5:30pm in front of all these people? Oh oh oh no. But she simply brushes past me. There is a middle-aged businessman reading the Wall Street Journal standing across from me. She shoves him hard. She shoves him again. Then she goes out those doors that separate the cars and into the next one.