Category Archives: fun times on the subway

There’s a Reason That Train Car is Empty

Posted by plumpdumpling on April 15, 2009 – 12:05 pm
Filed under fun times on the subway, good times at everyone else's expense, living in new york sucks so hard
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I love riding the R train because of the complete lack of other people using it. Even though it’s one of the slowest lines with some of the oldest trains, its frequent stops and guaranteed room for sitting make it perfect for playing some New Super Mario Bros. on my Nintendo DS on the way home.

Yesterday afternoon made me question my love, though. When I stepped into a car near the end, I was met with the overpowering stench of excrement. Terrible smells are par for the course in New York, so I tried not to overreact and took a seat. But the odor was SO BAD. I looked around me and noticed people covering their noses with their hands, burying their faces in their coat lapels, so I knew it wasn’t just me.

Then I looked around some more and noticed that everyone was crowded at one end of the train car. Some boys had rushed by me in a hurry to get to the opposite end of the car as I’d taken my seat, but I didn’t think anything about it until I realized that literally everyone but me and a man across the aisle were huddled together against the door leading to the next car. I craned my neck to see what they’d all run from and realized that a person, a man, was lying down on one of the sets of seats at the far end of the car. Evidently his stench was so overwhelming that it’d filled the entire place.

I like to consider myself an understanding and nonjudgemental person, so I decided I would stay planted where I was, showing the world that I accept homeless people and know that they can’t help the lot they were given. If fat people can take up two seats, by God, filthy people can stink up entire cars! But then I started thinking about the canvas bag full of clean clothes I had with me and how all of them were going to be soaked through with the worst smell imaginable by the time I got off at Union Square.

So at the next stop, I hustled out of the car, onto the platform, and into the next car with everyone else. I yelled to a man who was entering the foul car, “DON’T GO IN THERE!”, and he scampered along with the rest of us. From there, it was as if we had all survived a natural disaster and were brought closer together because of it. People were being polite and actually laughing with each other, and the boys who had rushed by me in the smelly car now stood in the aisle of this clean car and watched people at every stop as they entered the realm of the rankness, scrunched up their noses, and ran back out onto the platform.

When I got off at 14th Street, I walked past the cars and saw that all but one of them were being filled like normal by commuters. And there in the seat where I had originally sat was one lonely woman, mired in the stench, looking as if she was about to pass out.

(x-posted to my Examiner)

No More Hiding Behind Tinted Windows

Posted by plumpdumpling on April 7, 2009 – 12:48 pm
Filed under fun times on the subway
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When I turned 16 years old, my dad told me I could have any car I wanted. I told him I wanted a black truck, because

a) I was a farmgirl living in Ohio, but more importantly,
b) the boy I had a crush on had a black truck, and clearly creepily buying a twin vehicle is the way to any man’s heart.

A few days later, I owned a black ’86 Chevy Blazer with a grey stripe along each side that a family friend’s son was selling. Although it wasn’t exactly the shiny new Dodge Ram I’d imagined, I couldn’t have been happier with the way I could pretty much back into everything in sight and not inflict a bit of damage to my precious bumper with the inherited “Fast Boys Dirt Toys” sticker on it. It was only when my dad made the same offer to my little sister a year later and she ended up with a ’98 Ford Mustang that I reconsidered my ride.

I thought that moving to New York City would rid me of my constant worry that everyone pulling up beside me at red lights was judging my poor Blazer. I thought that without a nonfunctioning rear windshield wiper to hinder me, I’d have no insecurities. What I didn’t realize is that public transportation is ten times worse.

. . . And you can click here to read the rest on my Examiner page. OHHHHH! BURN!

Attack of the Gigantic Smiles

Posted by plumpdumpling on February 23, 2009 – 3:25 pm
Filed under all of my friends are prettier than i am, fun times on the subway, par-tay
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On my way down to Christopher Street for dinner at Agave Saturday night for my friend Bridgette’s birthday celebration, I saw:

a) two things I wrote about in this Examiner.com post

b) An old man waiting for his wife and grown daughter outside of a store called The Pleasure Chest. He looked so awkward standing outside the door and so relieved when his family came through it with their purchases. Or at least I assume it was his wife and daughter. I guess it could’ve been his two prostitutes, picking up supplies for their evening at his behest.

Bridgette’s party was pretty amazing, because

a) it included my three favourite co-workers from my software company who no longer work there:


Bridgette, Beth, me, and LaChantee

b) there was a maple duck confit quesadilla with goat cheese and a fig spread on the menu that LaChantee and I wanted to split, but there was a $5 sharing fee that we were not about to pay, so we just didn’t tell our server about it and felt veeeeeeeeery subversive:

c) I took this picture of Chantee looking like she has a red tumor growing inside of her nose:

d) Bridgette’s friend Sarah and I totally became BFFs. And by that, I mean that I dropped a fork on the ground before she got there and actually told her before she used it to eat her dinner.

Clearly an incredible time was shared by all:

Hugs, Blood, Death, and Rockstars of the String

Posted by plumpdumpling on December 10, 2008 – 11:11 am
Filed under fun times on the subway, living in new york is neat
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As I stepped out of Kamran’s apartment building yesterday morning and passed the park that lines his walk, I saw a woman coming out with a baby strapped to her front in one of those canvas harnesses. The idea of being hauled around in one of those has always appealed to me, but this one actually made me straight-up jealous: the baby was wearing a fuzzy brown fleece one-piece suit with bear ears on its hood. And his arms were wrapped around his mother’s stomach, his head pressed to her warm belly as she hugged him in the cold. It looked like the coziest, lovingest thing ever.

Then, when I got down into Grand Central, there was a scantily-clad man–I’m talking wifebeater made into a half-shirt here–playing some really sexy music on an electric violin. “Sexy music coming from an electric violin, the inherently lamest instrument ever?” you might ask. But yes, it totally was. And it was only made sexier by the fact that he had his eyes closed and his head thrown back, clearly enjoying what he was doing. Which made me smile so much that I had to turn away. Nice start to my day, right?

But THEN, I was getting off the 4 train at Bowling Green before work, and as I was waiting in the huge line that forms before the staircase leading up to the street, this Italian-looking guy in his 30s came stumbling through the crowd with BLOOD FLOWING DOWN HIS FACE. He was like, “Excuse me, please,” and politely made his way down the stairs while all of us stood and stared, and then he hopped into the train as if everything was fine.

And THEN, I was on my way to get my hair cut last night when I heard a woman telling the booth attendant at the 8th Street R stop about a man on the staircase. I assumed she was complaining about a disruptive homeless fellow, but when I got to the stairs myself, I saw nothing but a very well-dressed older guy who happened to be holding up the line to the street by taking a loooooooooooooong time on each stair and intermittently slumping toward the wall as if he was having trouble standing. Turns out he was having a HEART ATTACK right there in front of me. But naturally I continued on, selfish and vain as always.

NEW YORK!

Tap Dancers in Union Square Station

Posted by plumpdumpling on November 18, 2008 – 11:09 am
Filed under fun times on the subway, living in new york is neat
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For every 400 annoying guys beating on upside-down buckets with sticks, there’s one subway busking act that actually takes talent. These guys made me stop, stare, and actually shell out some cash the other day:

I also appreciate how particularly New Yorky this video is. Subway station (that someone magically got a piano into), the uplifting advertisement amidst all the grime, all of the people rudely walking right in front of my camera, the guy in the GOLD PANTS AND ASCOT . . . I can’t get enough.