The subway was packed. I was sitting in a seat by the door. This man, tatted from head to toe, wearing bagging jeans, and bumping rap in his head phones was propped up against the metal bar that passed for my 'armrest' hanging on to the pole above my head leaning against the door. The next stop filled the train and he stood up a little straighter, still holding the pole. This older woman, mid-sixties got on with her husband. She looked like she was born with her nose in the air. She had jewels around her neck and gaudy rings on her fingers. And I noticed the rings when she went to grab the pole and ended up grabbing the younger man's hand. He was bewildered to say the least. But she didn't move her hand, even when he tried to yank his back. I tried to stifle my laughter, but wasn't successful. He looked down at me, and we exchanged a look of solidarity, basically "this woman is crazy." The woman had heard me practically snort and she looked at me too, but she didn't get it. Finally the man wrestled his hand away. And moved it to another part of the pole a safe distance away from hers. The next stop came and the woman got off with her husband and the man and I shared another look basically "phew." I laughed again. My stop was next, and as I stepped off I tapped his bicep and he took off his head phones, and I said "I think she just desperately wanted to hold your hand." He laughed, "Yeah, I guess." And I responded, "I mean, come on, did you see her husband?" We both laughed and I stepped off the train and said, "have a good night."
Subway adventures, always a story.
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