The Bowels of Hell
Today I left work early in order to take care of some things. While I waited twenty minutes in the cold for the bus I realized two things: it was one hundred and ninety three days until summer and there wasn't a bus in sight. Wanting to hurry up and get home before my ass froze to death I decided to take the train. Remember my previous blog where I stated I hated taking the trains? Well then you should know I was not thrilled as I went down into the bowels of hell. I boarded the #5 train and of course there were no seats ... whatever. I stood by the door and mentally prepared myself for this train ride to Harlem. To my surprise ... nothing happened. There wasn't anything to talk about. No performers doing stunts in the middle of the isle. No panhandlers begging for money ... well there was this one guy walking up and down the isle talking to himself. Like the rest of the New Yorkers on the train I had the attitude ... don't bother me and I won't bother you. The only other thing worth mentioning was me saving a child (please hold your applause) from possibly going to the ER.
A young man and his son were sitting in the corner (the one seater). The little boy looked about 2 yrs old. I watched as the little boy peeled the white sticker off the outside of his banana. Of course it took forever for him to rid the sticky paper from his little fingers. Once he was done, his father peeled the banana. Before the little boy could take a bite, daddy broke off a piece and ate it. Little man wasn't happy. He cried and cried and cried. Eventually he stopped and proceeded to eat his banana. Unfortunately he fell asleep before he got to the end of his fruit.
As the train pulled into the 86th Street station, the father stands up to get the little boy ready. He pulled down his jacket and pant legs. Now here is where daddy made his mistake. He released his grip on the little boy to fix his own clothes. The train comes to a stop. Daddy is bent down not paying attention. The train jerks and the little boy goes flying forward. A pole was waiting to make contact with his little face. Without thinking I placed my hand between the little boy's face and the pole. I prevent the tot from running smack dab into the pole. Unaware of the danger he just avoided, the little boy looked up at me with a terrified look on his face. The father scooped him up and thanked me for my quick action. He asked the little boy was he okay. The whole time little man kept his eyes on me with a look of .. why you put your hand in my face lady? I wanted to laugh but he was already traumatized. I was just thankful instinct kicked in because his forehead hitting the pole was not going to be pretty. A child was saved from visiting the ER. Perhaps riding the train isn't that bad ... nah its still hell and unless I absolutely have to I'm not doing it again. However I am thankful that for the first time in ages ...
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