What is it with crazy people and the trains? Mice and subway platforms? Fat, smelly straphangers?! The other night I was on the devastating D line, riding home from work, and I made the mistake of sitting next to this woman who liked sweaters. She had a bag full of hoodies - all colors of the rainbow. Halfway through my autobiography of Richard Hammond (a must read by the way, if you like Top Gear), my neurotic neighbor decided to layer herself up with ALL of her sweaters. She must have been cold. One after another, like a little Russian doll, she covered herself in sweater after sweater, ending up like a swollen Michellin man.
Fast forward to tonight and the disgusting Grand Street train station - a place I will never put my bags down…I don’t even want to stand on the platform! I made the mistake of standing too close to the overflowing (what else is new?) garbage can. Let’s just say Topo Gigio crawled out in search of his next meal. I moved further on down the platform. Later, once the dissapearing D train showed up, I had to sit next to this overweight, smelly man who obviously missed the shower/personal hygiene lesson in life. Sigh. Can I just have one normal subway ride?
