A Bit of Real Life, New York, Surreal

“Yo, but I told him…just ONE more time…”

Talking to my mom made me remember yet another true but bizarre happening on a train platform in good ol’ Crooklyn. Most of it is below.


This one’s gonna be quick and dirty (in more ways than one), as I seem to have 10 more things to do and I’m losing sunlight, arrgh.

The date? I’m gonna estimate this was around 2000, just based on the route I was taking to work. I was running late, and everyone with me on the A train pulling into the station was straining to see if the F was coming in on the opposite track. Yes! I thought silently, seeing it sit there with doors open. The only thing better than seeing your transfer sitting waiting for you, was to beat it by seconds into the station, so you’d be first to the doors and could strategize better for any seats that might be available. Anyone who says they don’t do this (or at the very least, anyone who wears heels to work) is totally, totally lying.

The A train came to a stop with that high-pitched screech that made you wonder if you maybe wouldn’t survive the trip after all. Then the doors opened and I saw some officers, so I slowed down a bit–cops on a platform meant no one was rushing off anywhere soon. Then my eye took in a few things very quickly:


4 thoughts on ““Yo, but I told him…just ONE more time…””

  1. Been that schoolgirl and all i had was my voice. I yelled loudly and not one human being did a thing as that idiot (white dude dressed similarly, i might add) scrambled off the 86th street crosstown bus. This is great BSC! Transported right back to NY…I mean I could smell the station!!


    1. Ugh, I wish you had *not* experienced it. It’s terrible! (((hugs)))

      I had something creepy also happen to me; during high school I had to wait at a bus stop that was pretty quiet in the morning (and I was maybe 14, tops). I would read, but I also started recognizing cars that went by, it was such a routine. I noticed this one blue van every so often. One day the van stopped maybe a few yards away…and then started inching toward me. It was right in front of me before I realized the driver was…well, pleasuring himself. I grabbed my bookbag and took off like the roadrunner, and he similarly panicked and screeched out of there. I ran home shaking and crying, feeling everyone had let me down: my family by not walking me to the stop (until then, of course, I’d begged to walk alone), my friends for being lazy & not catching the same bus…Meanwhile, I looked for that van for years (at least until I went to college). I finally have distance from it, but it stayed with me a long time; it was blue on blue with these hideous windows… My family freaked from a “she could’ve been abducted” stance, but I was like “Why can’t you buy a car & drive me to school!” (That’s me, irrational to the end.) I’m glad we’re all safe now, but just knowing this stuff happens is really depressing.


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