The Fat Man

After class near Columbus Circle, I got on a C train headed for 34th Street. The train was crowded, as it was around 5PM, and all of the suites were headed back to their suburban families on Long Island. There were no seats left, so I stood holding the diseased metal bar for support during turns and deceleration. During this ride, I turned around to see a man of generous carriage, maybe 450 lbs. He was taking up two seats, sweating, and wearing the thickest glasses I have ever seen. These were literally an inch thick, and even with these monstrosities on his face, he had to squint and hold his folded newspaper about four inches from them in order to read.  

For some reason, I could not stop staring at him, mostly because I had never seen glasses of that magnitude, but it was also his weight. It made me feel sorry for him. As the train neared 34th street, I was walking passed him, and he stopped me with his hand. I turned to him with a smile, as he gazed through those coke bottle bottoms into my eyes and said in a sloppy pronunciation, "You know, if you feel bad for me, I can only feel bad for you." He stuck his hand out for me to shake, and I did, no matter how greasy it was. I smiled and said, "Thanks" and walked out of the subway car. This freaked me out for the rest of the day, mostly because I think that the fat man was just watching me watch him while he was squinting. I could not see him through the thick glasses and the acute angle I had. Yes, the whole time I was watching him, he was probably staring straight into my eyes, and I couldn't tell!

The 59th Street Spaniard

Place: 59th Street Subway Station, NY, NY  

Time: 5-something PM  

I board an A train heading downtown, only to hear "I'll fuckin' stab you!" I casually look to see everyone staring at a disgruntled Spaniard, who is yelling at another MTA customer, who is sitting quietly. He yells it again. "I'll fuckin' stab you!" In this particular subway car, everyone keeps their eyes on this man. He seems to be a bit short of sanity. 

Then something miraculous happens. The conductor says "This is 42nd Street" and the train stops. All at once, and I mean all at once when I say all at once, the majority of people in this particular subway car surround this short of sanity man. As the doors open, the short of sanity man is shoved by the people in this particular subway car out onto the platform. The short of sanity man appears to be angry, and walks away in a huff, knowing that he is no longer welcome in this particular subway car.