Maybe next time, take a cab?
Jeanie Colberg was on the 4 train with her young daughter on the way to the hospital yesterday when her water broke.
Luckily, a good samaritan was there to comfort her and calm her down a bit. At Union Square, EMS workers were there to handle the rest. She ended up giving birth to a 7 pound baby in the back of the ambulance.
She even gave the baby her middle name, Rochelle, after a transit worker that assisted her.
I don’t know for a fact that she was on the way to the hospital because she was in labor. If not, it’s a pretty freaky coincidence.
So let’s assume she was in labor, would you really take the 4 train? I’m personally gonna go with NO. It’s either 911, or take a cab. Even if you’re a bit light on the cab fare, I’m pretty sure they’d let you get away with it.
The weather is getting warmer, that’s for sure. Today wasn’t especially warm, but for some ladies the summer clothes are out and they’re not going back till the fall.
With that comes the lowcut tops, short shorts, and micro skirts. This is truly one of New York’s greatest treasures, IMHO.
Today, there was a young lady sitting down in front of me. I was holding on to the bar above where she was sitting. She was wearing a sundress type thing with little straps. I guess the dress was a little big on her or something because one strap kept falling off her shoulder.
I looked down, and oops…there’s your boob. Nice to meet you.
Unfortunately, she was not terribly attractive. Wasn’t quite to the point of being offensive, but it did give me pause. So I turned away.
It’s like forcing yourself to not look at a car wreck.
Anyway, I got a seat at the next stop more or less across from her…a slight angle. I thought everything would be safe now because I was now at her eye level instead of looking down over her. How wrong I was.
She was reading people magazine or something and was totally focused. Whoops, there goes that strap again. Only this time, it really went. There’s no way that people sitting next to me couldn’t see her entire boob hanging out.
It was easily the entire length of one stop to another before she picked up the strap. But she did it totally casual without even taking her eyes off the magazine. I don’t think she “felt the breeze” at all.
I kept waiting for another woman on the train to say something to her. There’s no way in hell a guy is going to say anything. For one, it is against our DNA to do so, and secondly that is a line we never cross.
I just assumed it was part of the “girl code” to tell each other when your boob is hanging out, regardless of being strangers. Right?
For the first ever SUBWAY Monthly newsletter, I’m thinking of creating the greatest list of subway riding tips ever. I’m not sure how I’m going to aggregate it just yet. Or even how it will be arranged. Luckily, I have a lot of ideas.
For one, I’m going to reach out to as many transit experts as I can to see what they have to say. I’m hoping I can get some pretty big names.
Secondly, I’m thinking of aggregating great tips from riders like you. If you’ve got a good tip, let me know using this form. It will send an email directly to the SUBWAYblogger team for review. If we like your tip, you’ll get full credit in the newsletter.
These transit tips can include things like maximizing your MetroCard usage and bonuses. How to time the perfect ride and hit all of your transferrs. Where’s the best place to wait on the platform for the train? Are there such things as “free rides.”? Etc.
Use this form to submit your tips for SUBWAY Monthly. If you’d like your name or website linked to with your tip, be sure to include your info.
If you’ve got the scoop, we’ll make it known and give you full credit.
Anyway, that’s just one of the ideas we’re working on. I think it could turn out to be pretty awesome. Of course, only subscribers (free) will get a copy!
I’m to lazy to go and look up the temperatures from last May, but I feel like we’re getting off easy this year temperature wise. I have a feeling these relatively mild weeks are going to quickly come back and bite us in the ass.
I’m predicting that we get our first sustained heat not this week but next week. This week will be the last week of the nice mild weather. I’m just going on a hunch that next week is going to be the official beginning of the balls hot weather.
Of course, I have absolutely no scientific data to back that up. It’s just a feeling.
As with everything on the subway, I get really jumpy when things go too well for too long.
Being able to leave home without a jacket and not sweat my ass off on the platform is delightful. But I’m used to only being able to do that for a few days a year.
Now, remember SUBWAYblogger’s three day theory. It takes a full three days for the temperature underground to totally catch up to the outside temp. One day of 98 degree weather won’t do anything down below. We need three back to back days in the mid eighties for it to become totally unbearable underground.
I’m really not looking forward to the heat in the subway this year, not that I would any year. This year particularly though. There’s a really distinct smell of urine ripening at my stop that just gets worse by the day. I can only imagine what the heat is going to bring.
There’s clearly some homeless guy that keeps making a daily deposit there because there’s no way that one quick piss could be persistent this long. That ammonia smell is getting pretty ridiculous. It’s almost to the point where you can taste it. I’m considering walking all the way to the other end of the platform from now on.
Anyway, mark my words. Heat’s a comin’.
“…and it starts with you go f**k yourself.”
On the newer trains (like the 2 train), they’ve added some more public service announcements. They aren’t especially new, but they seem to be playing them a lot more, and they’re starting to piss SUBWAYblogger off.
For the longest time, you only had a couple basic announcements from the voice in the ceiling.
“Backpacks and other large containers are subject to random search by the police.”
“Please do not block the doors while the train is in the station.”
“If you see a suspicious package or activity, do not keep it to yourself. Tell a police officer or an MTA employee.”
Those pretty much summed it up for years.
Now there’s these obnoxious ones that say, “If you see an elderly, pregnant, or handicap person near you offer your seat. You’ll be standing up for what’s right (pun intended). Courtesy is contagious and it starts with you.”
First of all, lay off the “jokes.” Standing up for what’s right? Hey here’s an idea. You hire staff that knows how to speak English when using the PA system. That sounds “right” to me. It’s not to much to ask to be able to hear and understand the more critical announcements.
If you want to stand up so that Mrs. Preggers or Grandma can sit down, fine. If you don’t, who cares. That’s life. We don’t need you’re little reminders.
It’s almost as infuriating as President Obama having to hold a press conference to remind people to wash their hands in order to avoid swine flu.
Gents, let’s just stick to running the trains.
Introducing SUBWAY Monthly by SUBWAYblogger.
We here at SUBWAYblogger have decided to offer a monthly newsletter product just for true subway riders. There’s really nothing like this out in the market right now. So instead of bitching about it, we’ve decided to take matters into our own hands.
Sign Up Now!
SUBWAY Monthly will be a…wait for it…monthly newsletter with tons of insider tips, stories, offers, deals, comedic out-takes and more.
What the heck does that mean?
Well for example, did you know that SUBWAYblogger gets sent dozens of emails from companies every month looking to give away their stuff on SUBWAYblogger.com? Most of the time we tell them to take a hike. If they want to buy some advertising, we’d be happy to feature their stuff. If we put all of it up, the site would soon look messier than Billy Mays’s underpants after snorting lines of Oxy Clean.
On the other hand, some of the stuff is actually pretty good. So we’ll make those offers (only the good ones) to SUBWAY Monthly subscribers.
Some stories are a little more vulgar colorful than even we would publish. I know, you’re thinking to yourself, “Wait, they actually have worse stories?” YEAH. You can’t even imagine some of the submissions we receive. So we’ll pick the best of the bunch to include in the subscription only version, SUBWAY Monthly.
You may or may not know that the SUBWAYblogger crew has a life outside the tunnels. As a matter of fact, most of us are pretty well connected. So we hear about things from our political connections all the time. Elliot Sander resigning? Ha…old news. Unfortunately, many of our sources frown upon us publishing the gritty details on the site. So we either have to find creative ways around it, or not publish it. Those little gossip nuggets will also find their way into SUBWAY Monthly. More details about SUBWAY Monthly
On any given day, at any given time, you can see shocking things that would make your eyes burn and your head shake.
This morning was no different. I boarded the R train that goes from my house in Midtown to my job in Soho. It is a fairly quick trip, but even on the quickest of trips, you can catch a glimpse of a myriad of interesting things.
Today was probably the most shocking of all.
Across from me was a black man about my age. He was all ghettoed out, wearing baggy pants, a puffy ski parka, a Sean John sweater and a ski head pulled menacingly down on his eyes. He had chains around his neck and bright bling on his fingers and in his ears. He had a big bag on his lap and was shaking his head in time to the gangsta rap he was listening to that filtered into the rest of the car in staticked beeps.
He reached into his messenger bag and pulls out…. what I can’t quite see it…I squint my eyes to discern…it’s long and pointed…is it a knife?…is it a needle….
No, it’s a crocheting needle. He promptly pulls out a half-made green sock and continues on looping and connecting, his hands working wildly. There he sat from 42nd St., to Prince, pulling bright green wool from it’s skein and jabbing his number 7 crochet tool in and out, crocheting his little heart out.
A guest post from noisiestpassenger.com.
The post-work subway ride uptown on Friday is my favorite of the week. I can always get a seat from the Wall Street stop, as people tend to leave their offices earlier. Because we get to sleep late the next day or have fun weekend plans too large for a cubicle, everyone tends to actually look at each other and even smile.
I don’t consider my workweek over until I’ve tutored my last student, Jing, on Friday night. But I do feel lighter. There’s a zip of camaraderie among passengers, like we’re all in on the same joke or headed to some surprise party someone very high-strung doesn’t know about.
A few Fridays ago, I was sitting on the train, listening to music and feeling good. A couple boarded with their toddler, the human equivalent of a sticker burr, a few stops after mine. He clung to his exhausted mom and howled when put down in his own seat.
I locked eyes with the woman sitting across from me. She was coming from a workplace somewhere near mine and had an easy smile barely hidden by Stranger Face, the public “Just get me where I need to be” face. Neither of us needed to say anything to verify a wavelength. If that kid didn’t shut up, our Friday evening buzz would be seriously harshed, man.
The mom and dad bent over the toddler to shush him. Strangers shot knowing glances as the boy kept screaming. “Just hold him already!” every passenger silently chided. A 2 train hath more judgment than the pearly gates.
Once on his dad’s lap, the squirming child vine fell into a short-lived hush, the calm before the snotty, whining storm. Then he started to scream and thrash like the lead singer of a death metal band.
The woman across from me sent a blinking grimace my way, which I recognized from my days of teaching. In English, it translates to something like, “Do we really need to keep this one alive?”
Does it also take a village to properly beat a child’s ass? Keep reading about this parenting disaster...