If You Thought the Q Train Couldn't Get Any Worse..

A few months ago I was riding the Brooklyn-bound Q train when this young guy (probably 14 or 15 yrs old) got on at Canal Street with his Mom and Younger Sister. It's evening rush-hour so the car is packed. I'm pressed up against a door; he stands with his family, holding onto the pole a few feet away from me. Crossing the Manhattan Bridge, we start doing the whole Red Light/Green Light (mostly Red Light) thing. I have an iPod and a book, so I don't really mind.

We're maybe a third of the way over the bridge (Red Light) when people start scampering away from the pole. Lowering my book, I see that the teenager has dropped some foul-looking Chinese food all over the place. Since I've got a cold, I don't smell a thing, but it must smell horrible because other passengers are holding books, newspapers or bags over their faces. I should note here that there is no escape from this--doors between cars are locked.

Suddenly I realize I am mistaken about the mess; it's much worse than Chinese food. The teenager starts groaning and leans forward to spew vomit onto his sister's shoes. The entire train car is trapped together in this awkward nightmare. It's nice to have a cold, I think, as I observe this moment. His Sister is now freaking out so Mom takes her little hand and they step away from her sick brother. He is now isolated and projectile vomiting like the puppet in Team America...

Eventually the train starts moving again (Green Light!). The teenager straightens up and wipes his mouth clean with his sleeve. Mom and sister refuse to acknowledge him. I'm side-stepping the former contents of his stomach, which is streaming in my direction. I can almost smell it. I realize I wasn't so wrong before: it was Chinese food, once.

Five minutes later and we are rolling into DeKalb Avenue station, the first stop in Brooklyn, my stop. Most people on the car seem to have already grown accustomed to the stench by this point. Still, the car clears out in a flash (and, being true New Yorkers, nobody warns those waiting to get in). I glance back: the little family remains, but Mom and Younger Sister continue to ignore the boy.

- MM