I moved to New York City on Saturday. I like it.
People really hyped up the amount of insanity that I’d see on the subway. “You won’t believe it! People play music, some ask for money, dogs are cats, and the only rule is THAT OF THE MIGHTY SHUL’ ROGOTH.” But I haven’t seen any of that yet. I’m sure my time will come, though.
Yesterday, however, a guy walked into the F Train and stopped when he got about six inches into the thing. I don’t know if NYC breeds some weird sense of confidence that’s totally based around ignoring the common laws of volume, but as soon as the doors closed on his backpack, he turned around and gave a death stare to the doors. It probably lasted less than a second, but every “real life” second amounts to about two thousand “giving a death stare at inanimate objects” seconds, so he stared down that door for an hour, as far as I’m concerned. His face was a mask of indignation, and he tugged his backpack away as if the train itself was trying to mug him.
He then immediately went back to looking at his phone, as is custom here.