Train You To Kvetch

The subway, Metronorth, LIRR, NJ Transit...one or more of the aforementioned are part of most New Yorker's daily routine. So we all have to go through the motions. It's a part of my day, and not necessarily a part of the day I look forward to, mainly because I consistently encounter one or all of the below listed offenses:

1) the ipod abuser--has no idea or simply does not care that the entire population of the train car by virtue of your cheap ear buds and volume control issues is now forced, in an underground, no-escape-route-possible misfortune, to listen to Air Supply.

2) the cell phone slut--this is one of the worst offenses of all time, and it is two-fold, and mainly relegated to above-ground train situations. Your phone rings, and not only have you chosen (out of the endless choices provided by your particular cell phone model) the most shrill, obnoxious Casio keyboard ring, but you seem to actually enjoy the ring. Or maybe you enjoy thinking you are important enough that someone is calling you, because you allow your phone to ring incessantly until the last possible ring before it sends the call to voice mail, at which point you decide to answer the phone, oh-busy-important one. Now is when part two of this offense comes into play: full-blown conversations in an environment where everyone around you is forced to listen to your every word. Sharing suggestions your caller should take to rid herself of the yeast infection she woke up with is what EVERY train rider wants to hear about on their commute. Thank you, cell phone slut, for ruining my morning, ruining my positive outlook on today, ruining my appetite and ruining my prior nostalgic fondness for Casio keyboards.

3) the seat thief--you know who you are...and to some degree, we've all probably been guilty of this offense. However, if you haven't noticed, NYC is getting more crowded; not less. When you decide to sit down in an empty seat on the train, and there just so happens to be one or two seats next to you, and your handbag decides it's so tired too that it needs to rest it's fat leather on the seat next to you, be advised that a new law is being enacted as we speak which will allow passengers to shove your parcels to the floor in one swift sweep without so much as a warning necessary. Your bag, newspaper, baguette, boom box, and whatever else you have decided to tote along with you for your commute needs to stay within your seat perimeter. My fat arse wants to sit too you know.

There you have 'em. I love NY.

I feel compelled to add a 4th and in my mind most egregious subway indiscretion.

4) The homeless singer -- Now let's be clear, I'm sympathetic to those less fortunate than I who instead of enjoying a 200 sq. ft. studio are forced to spend their nights in a 100 sq. ft. cardboard box under the tracks so they say. But the singing, the incredibly loud grating rendition of 50s era top 40, or worse yet, spiritual hymns, is too much to take in a crowded train car at the end of the day. The volume alone - is enough to make you cringe, but get too close and you're subjected to the rain of spittle that the "amazing grace, how sweet the sound" lyric expels. Not enjoyable.

Which makes me think of a 5th, the dreaded "subway preacher," thank goodness Jesus loves me, because I thought someone really had it out for me on this particular ride. Then there's "the battery salesman," the "cranky mom" - watch out for her; she hits, and finally the "candy-pushing teenagers."

F-it, that's why I take cabs - but we'll save cabs for another kvetch.