for the love of god, nobody move.

Let's just get right to it.

On the subway this morning, I was thrilled to have the good fortune to get a seat. I forced myself, new yorker style, between two people who were enjoying their personal space but inhibiting my chance to park it. We made one stop, picking up a ton of people, then another. We were quite a full train. But at the second stop, everything went wrong.

Ding! "Stand clear of the closing doors please." Ding! "Stand clear of the closing doors please." (pause) Ding! "Stand clear of the closing doors please." Ding! Ding! (pause) Ding!

Generally, you can expect 2-3 of these computerized warnings before the doors lock shut and the train begins to move. On less fortunate days, when some idiot is holding a door open, you may get 4 or 5 before the conductor, like yesterday, screams over the intercom "Sir! I can see you holding the door. Let GO of the door! And you wonder why you're late to your destination? Let GO of the DOOR sir!"

But today...we had many--way too many--of the Ding! "Stand clear of the closing doors please." People looked up from their books and newspapers, over their shoulders to see what was going on. Ding! "Stand clear of the closing doors please." Ding! Ding! We looked at each other, confirming our fears in each others eyes. Ding! "Stand clear of the closing doors please." Ding! Ding!

Then silence...

We waited for the inevitable announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, we need to dispatch this train. This is the final stop. Please exit the train, there is another train outside the station waiting to pick you up." The community groan spread like a wave. People jumped up and made for the doors, but I thought I'd outsmart them all and get off last so I'd be in the best position to get on the next train first. Brilliant right?

Wrong. The platform was actually not big enough to hold ALL the passengers from the train, plus the people who had already been waiting there. There were about 15 people left on my car (5 at each door) when we all realized we were screwed. "GET OFF THE TRAIN!" the conductor yelled, failing to see our predicament. We looked at each other in panic, then at the sympathetic but territorial people already jammed on the platform. I tenderly stepped out, getting one foot on the utmost edge of the platform, but still couldn't turn around nor plant my second foot. People started yelling "Step back people! Let them off!" and the conductor continued to scream at us over the intercom.

With a little maneuvering, we all managed to get off the train, but I was NOT feeling good about it. The train doors closed, and it sat idle while the staff made a pass through to ensure all passengers had exited. I looked down, saw my shoulder bag touching the train, and realized how scary this was about to get. I couldn't see my feet because of my bag, but I knew I was much to close to the edge to be safe.

The train pulled away slowly, but even so my sense of balance was off from the blur of metal moving 5 inches from my face. I looked at the guy next to me, and said "Yah, this feels safe." He said "Nobody push." That was all I needed to hear to realize my time might be best spent not realizing that I'm about to die, but rather rehearsing what to do when I fell into the tracks. I decided that, assuming my ankles aren't broken from jumping 5 feet down in heels, and that I don't crack my head open, and don't land on the electric third rail, I would scramble to my feet and NOT try to climb back out. Instead, I would hop over the electric third rail while people screamed "HERE COMES THE TRAIN!" and victoriously wedge myself in the narrow "safe zone" between the two trains, let the train leave, then clamour out to where my concerned fellow passengers (all big strong hot men) would hoist me up to safety then fight for my hand in marriage.

My heart was pounding, my legs trembling. I was teetering on the edge, literally, afraid to shift weight to my other foot, or adjust my bag. I couldn't even tell if the train was coming, but I did my best to hold my bag as close to me as possible. I saw the light of the train on the tracks, and held my breath.

It FLEW into the over-crowded station, causing me to all but shit my pants. (Just for the record, I don't like fast-moving trains up-close to begin with. Talk about confronting your fears.) Car after car after car sped past, and every second I thought a) WHY is this driver going SO FAST when people are already dangling off the edge? and b) soon the train would snag my bag and send me flying down the platform, knocking other people into its path. But it started slowing...and slowing...and finally stopped, leaving a door right in front of my weak knees.

I got on, which was more than I can say for a lot of people. But there was no where to sit and I could barely hold myself up. My friend from the platform smiled at me in that "phew. we survived!" sort of way. I smiled back, and grabbed onto the handrail.

But is that the end? No. It gets better. Consider this your bonus chapter.

At the next station, a ton of people shoved on. I had comfortable but minimal space on both sides. Then suddenly the middle-aged man next to me was in full, unnecessary, arm-to-arm contact. I looked over, perplexed, to see he had PLENTY of room on the other side of him, so why was he crammed up against me? When I looked in the window reflection and saw the familiar but disgusting bulge of his erection, I knew why. Now, on top of all this, I'm being molested on the subway. AGAIN.

Granted, he was a passive molester, unlike my active molester buddy from last summer. But still, I felt bad for the women seated in front of him, who were so lucky to be asleep so they wouldn't get poked in the eye.