Why I Am Moving to Montana

SCENE: This morning, trying to get to work, the subway
DRAMATIS PERSONAE: Me, and every single asshat in New York

My stop: Arrive to a packed station at 8:30 AM. Must wait for seven trains to go by to board.

1st stop: Large group of schoolchildren board already packed train. Teacher, with whom Henry Higgins would have a field day, screaming, "We're gettin' AWN. We're gettin' AWN!" manages to maneuver her size 40FF bust into already packed car, where it towers perilously over stunned-but-still-shrieking children.

Next stop: Dockers- and enormous-backpack-wearing man boards. Refuses to take off said backpack. Hits woman next to me with said backpack. Her Starbucks goes flying -- yes, all over my -- and everyone else's --shoes.

Next stop: Extraordinarily skinny Asian guy with large open Tupperware filled with steaming, smelly stew of some sort boards and proceeds to eat said stew with a spoon while standing. Did I mention that the train is packed?

Three stops later: Guy with smelly food mercifully exits train. Are we saved? Oh, no. I hear, "WATCH yuh back! Watch yuh back!" Large homeless guy with multiple carts full of stuff and with bags dangling from each is boards. Yes, we wait while he loads all of his possessions onto the train. As different sort of smell permeates my end of the car whatever empathy I still possess evaporates.

ME (yes, out loud): "Please kill me." Laughter from some fellow passengers.

Finally: We climb over, snake around, and squeeze by the aforementioned carts and bags to exit the train. I say to two bewildered tourists who look as though German may be their first language: "Do not get in that car." They ignore me. As I pass, I say, "I warned you."