The Gatorade Bottle and The Missed Train

Since this week is the Fasttrack along the Lexington Avenue line, I have to take a detour on my way home and decided to take either of the Broadway line trains. As I walk down to the 8th Street station I notice a train is approaching which if anyone who rides the N and R trains on a regular basis know catching one late night with nary a wait is truly a blessing. I get on and notice that the train is an N.

So at the next stop, a man gets on and sits down next to an 1/3 full bottle of Gatorade. The bottle was there when I got on the train. He grabs the bottle (which is obviously not his) and proceeds to take a swig from it. This act draws the attention of the person who the Gatorade belongs to. He licks his lips excitedly since I assume the free drink was delicious. The former owner of the Gatorade just shakes his head and goes back to his reading.

The new owner then takes the bottle and plays a nice beat along it's bottom while singing a tune that I couldn't understand. There seems to be something amusing to him as he would laugh and chuckle almost at random. As fast as this show started, he got off the train at 34th Street. End of the adventures? No way.

I get off at 59th Street to catch the 6 train and see I have a 15 minute wait for the next train. The 4 train is due to arrive in 10 minutes. Why is this important? Well here goes.

As the 4 train pulls in and pulls out, I hear someone yell out "Fuck". A man goes through the turnstiles and misses the train. Nothing special there right? Well the dude goes on the kind of major league tantrum that two year old go one. He starts yelling out "Fuck" as if it was on a constantly playing loop and proceeds to kick a garbage can on the platform, to smack his newspaper on the upright beams. He causes a group to scatter from one of the benches as he throws his stuff down and starts shaking another garbage can while yelling "Fuck" into the can for about 10 times before he sits down on the bench resigned to the fact that he'd have to wait for the next train. As I pulled past him on the 6 train, no one would have looked twice at the now calm man reading his tattered newspaper.

Ah, the sights I see on the subway as a nightwalker. Gotta love it.

FH