The Loud Talkers
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The Read My Book Guy
You're engrossed in your book when you notice that the guy next to you is staring a little too intently at the page you're reading. You flip the page and he follows right along. You shift and try to angle the book differently, but he just moves his head to get a better view.
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The iPod Earphone Swinger
The inner ear can become a mighty dirty place, but it's not something you usually have to worry about in terms of other people, even in close quarters -- there is no equivalent of the sneeze with regard to the ear, for example. However, for the commuter, there is a lurking danger, and it can smack you right in the forehead -- like the snap of expertly handled nunchucks -- before you even see it coming. The instrument of fear, and all too common on the subway these days: iPod earphones (essentially earplugs on the ends of long, gangly cords). Any hipster jackass listening to some "dude, this song changed my life" tune is a potential perpetrator. If he's being quick and careless, and you have the misfortune of standing right next to him, he may unfurl his grimy earphones so that they swing out way beyond his personal space and hit YOU, God forbid they actually go near your mouth or into an eye. Like anyone ever really cleans their ears out, they certainly aren't wiping down their earphones. His ear muck. On you. It's all over in a flash. Nothing to do but stew the entire ride to work. Oh yeah, it's going to be a great fuckin' day.
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The Start A Conversation Guy
The guy next to you asks you the time. You look at your watch and tell him the time. He then asks if it's Tuesday or Wednesday, explaining that he's had a rough week. You tell him it's Tuesday, and pull out a magazine. He misses the signal and asks if you know of any good places to eat in Midtown, because he's got some time to kill. You shake your head no, but he says that's okay, maybe he'll just grab a cup of coffee, because he isn't really that hungry anyway. Then he starts telling you about how little sleep he had the night before. And so on and so forth.
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The I Don't Know Where I'm Going Guy
You're trying to mind your own business, lost in your own disgruntled thoughts about having to get to work, and the guy next to you tells you he's trying to get to a station that's in the opposite direction on a different train line. He's got Cleveland, Ohio, written all over him, and now you've got to try and explain that he's on the wrong train going the wrong way, and that he needs to head back the other way, get off at a transfer point, and find his way to a completely different train line going the other direction.
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The Grab Your Breast Guy
The guy next to you seems to be nudging at your shoulder, his hands tucked under his arms. All of the sudden you feel a hand squeezing your breast, and you scream. The pervert quickly gets up and walks away. You feel violated and embarrassed that you screamed, but no one on the train seems to know how to react.
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The Angry Guy
The train stops in between stations, or is held at a station, and the guy next to you just can't take it. He starts breathing in and out with exaggerated heaviness, then he starts to mumble, finally working himself up to the point where every other word is a swear word.
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The Are You Looking At My Girlfriend Guy
The guy sitting next to you suddenly asks another passenger across the aisle if he is looking at his girlfriend. The guy across the way says "no," and adds "Fuck Off." The guy sitting next to you then says, "What did you just say to me?" and the guy across the way says "Fuck off" even louder than before, and adds "You stupid motherfucker." People in the area start getting up and moving to the other end of the train. The girlfriend starts saying, "Calm down. Let's just get off the train," but her boyfriend can't hear her because he's in the midst of a volley of escalating "Fuck yous."
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The Insane Guy
You know he's not quite right, and you hope he doesn't take the empty seat next to you, but of course he does. He's babbling and cramping everyone's space even though he's sitting down next to you. He starts commenting on how the train is jam packed. "We sure are packed in here like cattle. Boy, I wish I had me a meat cleaver, and this was a cattle car, because then I could make me some goooood money."
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The Passing Gas Guy
All is peaceful and calm, and you're suddenly overtaken by the smell of a fart. The guy next to you looks a little too focused on his reading material, giving himself away by acting as if he has no idea that there's a horrible stench infecting the surrounding area.
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The Hope He Doesn't See You Guy
You spy a guy whom you really dislike on the train, and immediately start praying that he hasn't spotted you. You try to keep your face planted in your book, but of course you make the big, BIG mistake of looking his way one too many times. Inevitably, eye contact is made, and he beelines over to talk with you, which he will continue to do the entire time you are commuting to work. You send him constant, countless "Okay, great speaking with you, our conversation is now over" signals, but he never takes the hint. Of course you are at the very start of your long, slow journey when this conversation begins. And you can bet your last staple that on this particular ride there will be some kind of "sick passenger / police investigation / mechanical issue with the doors" that will cause excruciatingly long delays along your route to work.
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The Praise Jesus Guy
You sit down next to a guy who seems very plain and innocuous, but as soon as people have settled into their seats and the train starts to move, he stands up, smiles with his eyes closed and chin raised towards the heavens, and begins to loudly sermonize: "Praise heavenly Jesus, for HE died for OUR sins..."
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The "Excuse Me, Excuse Me" Woman
For a while you aren't even intentionally ignoring her, because you have no idea that she is talking to you. People don't normally address you directly on the subway - even people you know that just happen to be in the same train car as you -- but you soon realize that the continuous stream of "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me" is meant to get your attention. When someone actually does address you like this and you realize it, you normally just try to ignore them and they move on. But this woman does not give up, so you've got to do something to stop her broken record-like interruption: "Yes?" you finally say. "Can you spare some change?" she asks. "No," you say, annoyed, and so she finally moves on to the next person: "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me…"
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The Nose Picker
It starts with a few loud sniffles. That's annoying enough, as you think, "Great, I'm going to catch this idiot's cold." Of course that's just the risk you take every time you get on the subway, so you really don't get too worked up about it. But then the hand starts rubbing the nose a little too frequently. Finally, you start to notice some focused itching, and before you even have time to turn away, you see a finger inserted right into the nostril. Once it's in there, you know it's going to dig around, for a person who isn't shy about a nose cleaning on the subway is a tried and true nose picker. He works it hard. He uses technique. He probes and scrapes until he gets his prize. And you have to watch -- you have to make sure this person doesn't flick anything in your direction. You have to be ready to dodge, or block…something, anything to avoid being contaminated by a booger from your nose-picking fellow commuter.
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The Newspaper Reader
All of the sudden, it's like you're inside of a tent. The guy next to you has thrown open his paper as if you are not sitting there -- he's reading the sports section, and in your face is some giant full page ad for a cheap suit blowout. He flips the page, and not only does his elbow grind into your shoulder, but his paper actually makes contact with your face. It was a light touch, but you know how newsprint is - you've probably got an ink smudge on your nose.
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The Coffee Spiller
He's a gangly fellow, frumpy, and of course he's wearing a corduroy sports jacket with patches on the elbows. His briefcase is jam packed with papers and under one arm is a 600-page hardback fantasy fiction novel. And in his hand he is holding, rather lackadaisically, a large cup of coffee. Your eyes focus on the cup and notice that the white lid is stained brown, and that pools of coffee have formed at the top. Then you see the streaks along the side of the cup. This guy is a spiller, and from his get-up and aloof demeanor you can tell he's the worst kind of spiller - the kind that doesn't even notice that he's dripped coffee on you. You try and edge yourself as far away as possible, squeezing your legs together and leaning hard into the subway car's wall. But there's no place to run, no way to hide. He throws back a swig and in what seems like slow motion, you see the drips from his careless sipping fall right onto your leg, some of it even hitting the bare skin of your arm. You say, "Hey, watch your coffee," and the guy barely looks up from his book. "Oh, um, sorry." The half-assed apology makes you even angrier. Seeing the brown stain on your pants - which, naturally, you have to wear for the duration of the day -- makes you seriously consider punching the guy in the gut and then kicking him, over and over, while he's down.
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The Nail Clipper
She sits down next to you, digs in her bag for what seems like an hour, finally finds what she's looking for, and settles down. Then, all of the sudden, you hear the distinct sound of someone clipping their finger nails - though you don't recognize it at first, of course, being on a train and all. Unfortunately, even though you've angled yourself away from any flying debris, you're wearing a short sleeve shirt and start to feel things hit your arm - are you imagining it, or are this woman's nail clippings launching into the air and hitting you? You make a mental note to wipe down your arm when you get to work.
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The Powdered, Lemon-Filled Donut Eater
You're wearing your brand new, expensive black pants, and thinking you look pretty damn hot, so hot, in fact, that people are definitely checking you out, when low and behold, some dolt sits down next to you, tears open his Dunkin' Donuts bag, and sloppily shoves a powdered, lemon filled donut in his mouth. He's not even really chewing, just opening his mouth and swallowing, but the powdered sugar is blanketing your new pants with the doggedness of a winter snow storm.
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The Loud Talkers
Most people just read, sleep, zone out to their tunes, or stare into space on the subway. Some people write in notebooks, while others play games or make notes on their PDAs/cell phones. There's chatter, of course, but usually you can't hear what people are saying to each other. That is unless they're Loud Talkers. They take over. They act like they're in the comfort of their own home, and blather on about personal business - usually somebody else's business. "Well, then she told him she didn't want to see him anymore, but, you know, they're still together. She just can't leave him. And I'm sick of hearing about it." Aren't we all, dear.
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