New York Minute 144 - Sub Sanitary

The subway was crowded when I left work last evening. A young guy who looked like a total slob - not like a bum, more like a twenty-something loser who plays video games in his mother’s basement all night long - boarded through the door where I was standing. As he walked into the car, the slobby guy wiped his nose with the palm of his hand. He then grabbed onto one of the poles in the middle of the car with that same hand. It looked as though he was role playing in a comedy skit or acting in a public service message about the importance of not spreading diseases in public. But his behavior was only going to get worse. 

As he stood there holding onto the pole with his snotty palm, he continued to wipe and pick his nose with the other hand. And yes, he did put those fingers into his mouth several times.

It was an express train, so it took a few minutes to get to the next station. (In other words, we were all trapped in there with Mr. Mucus.) After a while, the guy shifted positions and grabbed the pole with the other hand, the one that he had just used to pick his nose.

I am not making this up. This actually happened. Think about that when you hold onto the poles and handrails in a subway car.

I had to switch cars at Union Square. I couldn’t take it anymore. 

As I dashed over to the next car, a young man wheeled on a bicycle with tires that were big enough to mount on a Cadillac. That bike took up a lot of space on a crowded train, but hey, at least he wasn’t picking his nose and smearing it on the handrails.

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