So, this week I hit the “trifecta” of witnessing bodily elimination functions during my commutes…
On Tuesday morning, riding the 4 train in Brooklyn, a sleeping guy got up from laying down on the bench and walked to the middle door, closed while the train was running, whipped it out and pissed, in full view of half a dozen passengers, men and women.
On Wednesday evening I was nearly home and saw a guy stretch out both arms on a sidewalk shed, scaffolding. I thought he was just tired and stretching, but no…. He leaned over a large stream of orange liquid, like he’d been guzzling Irn-Bru, with a few scattered chunks came spewing out his mouth into the gutter alongside the street. The low evening sun was shining bright from the opposite side, lighting up the stream of vomit to a glowing nuclear orange.
On Thursday evening I was on the N train, just pulling into 49th Street, where I get off. I was standing at the very front door, almost with my nose on it. As the train stopped I could see out one side of the window a rolling cart with some stuff in it, but the metal between the windows was blocking my view next to that. Then the doors opened and there was a dirty bum, crouching, pants down, taking a shit.
On the lucky side, for the two evening ones I was wearing headphones so I didn’t hear any of the associated noises. Oddly, and quite fortunately, I didn’t smell any of them…
On Tuesday morning, riding the 4 train in Brooklyn, a sleeping guy got up from laying down on the bench and walked to the middle door, closed while the train was running, whipped it out and pissed, in full view of half a dozen passengers, men and women.
On Wednesday evening I was nearly home and saw a guy stretch out both arms on a sidewalk shed, scaffolding. I thought he was just tired and stretching, but no…. He leaned over a large stream of orange liquid, like he’d been guzzling Irn-Bru, with a few scattered chunks came spewing out his mouth into the gutter alongside the street. The low evening sun was shining bright from the opposite side, lighting up the stream of vomit to a glowing nuclear orange.
On Thursday evening I was on the N train, just pulling into 49th Street, where I get off. I was standing at the very front door, almost with my nose on it. As the train stopped I could see out one side of the window a rolling cart with some stuff in it, but the metal between the windows was blocking my view next to that. Then the doors opened and there was a dirty bum, crouching, pants down, taking a shit.
On the lucky side, for the two evening ones I was wearing headphones so I didn’t hear any of the associated noises. Oddly, and quite fortunately, I didn’t smell any of them…
