the sweet relief of a door violator

Wednesday turned in to a very long day for me. I went in at my now primary job ten minutes to eight, worked until almost seven and got a call to come in to my other job for a few hours to cover a call out. I ended up leaving work, the second time, at about 10:30, pretty hungry and with very sore feet. I decided to grab a whopper on the way to the subway station, I could eat the fries on the way in and once home dig into my nice, juicy burger.

I’m coming down the stairs on 40th and Fashion in the Times Square area of NYC. The station is pretty quiet and as I glance around I see some guy peeing on the the stairs. A set of stairs mind you, that I frequently use. Yeah, all those thoughts going through your head about some guys peeing in public, they, um, flowed through my mind too. (sorry, couldn’t resist that one).

Well, I didn’t want to touch my food at that moment. I hadn’t lost my appetite, I’m just thinking, the way he staggers around, I don’t know about his aim and well, last night he may have played target practice with the hand-rail I just touched. Would you want those fingers touching food you’re about to eat? Didn’t think so.

So I get to the platform and wait for the train (kinda disappointed he didn’t get caught by a cop so I could watch an arrest). I catch an N train and as we’re leaving the station apparently someone in the last car was holding the door. Finally the operator yells (OK, maybe just spoke loudly) to stop holding the doors because there is a train needing to come in to the station. Then she said “Door Violator” to everyone on the train, in the tone of voice that made it sound like a five-year-old-with-a-better-vocabulary calling you a stupid-head. “Yeah, well you’re a door violator!”

I kinda chuckled, but seriously, food was on my mind. Fries and a burger I couldn’t touch with my urine hands. Then a few stops later, we come to a stop between stations. The operator announces to us that “there are workers in the tube up ahead, all trains are running slow, there was no need to hold the doors.” She is very protective of her doors. I have two thoughts after this comment: it isn’t as bad as some guy relieving himself on stairs you use a lot and this is definitely going in a blog post.

I finally get to my stop, get drenched again because I have yet to buy myself an umbrella. Again, I don’t like you Rihanna (I found out who it was) and your mind-violating song, but I digress. I get home, take off my shoes so my feet can have their aahhhh moment, put on some comfortable clothes, WASH MY HANDS, and take out my food and sate my hunger. This particular meal will forever be known as the sweet relief of a door violator.