The Subway Stalemate

Subway rider 1: Excuse me, that's some nice nail polish you got on your toes there.

Subway rider 2: Gee thanks.

Subway rider 1: It really compliments your skin tone nicely. May I ask what color it is?

Subway rider 2: Yes, you may ask.

Subway rider 1: Umm, ok, what color is it?

Subway rider 2: Pig's blood.

Subway rider 1: .......................................... [clears throat] I thought so! Really, I thought to myself "that's pig's blood," but then I thought it might be goat blood but then I really thought the hue was more piggish. You can also tell because of the extra bit of texture. When will I learn not to second guess myself and go with my gut?

Subway rider 2: Probably never.

Subway rider 2, anticipating more trivial conversation, looks up at Subway rider 1 who for once has nothing left to say. Awkard silence fills the 6-inch gap between them as the train rumbles on for another five stations. The seven minutes that transpire feel more like an eternity. At the City Hall stop, Subway rider 1 picks up a briefcase and prepares to exit. Subway rider 2 looks on with hesitation.

Subway rider 2: Uh...bye Mayor Bloomberg.

Subway rider 1: Bye now!

Subway rider 1 forces an uncomfortable smile, the kind that most people reserve for when they silently pass gas at a dinner party.

End scene.

Social interaction on the steel trains beneath our fair city remains a confusing and unsettling prospect. Social interaction in any environment can be stressful (ever try flirting with your sky diving instructor while they're strapped to your back and you're both plummeting to the earth at 180 miles per hour? "I think we're falling for each other" is a terrible line). But compounded with the particular characteristics of the subway, and you've got a veritable shitfuck on your hands. (Shitfuck? What's that? A dildo made of feces??)

You would think that an enclosed space overcrowded with human beings literally pressing up their bodies against each another would be conducive to social interaction. Sounds like a typical Saturday night in the LES, right? But it's not, it's different. Instead, we remain completely isolated and detached, like a bunch of commuting North Koreas in the United Nations of mass transit. So when a passenger finally decides to break the communication blockade, it's shocking, jarring, and downright mindboggling (not to be confused with mindscrabbling, mindtabooing, or my childhood favorite, mindkerplunking). It's like talking in the men's room.

[Admittedly though, there really are some characters on the train that you just wanna talk to and ask them, "Why are you wearing Uggs in the middle of July? What is the purpose of your life? Really, what is it 'cuz I am out of ideas."]

Because of this non-social environment, a particular form of conversation often takes place when the silence policy is broken. One person breaches the social divide and makes initial contact, while the other person's anti-social alarm goes off "Stranger-danger, Will Robinson!" This causes the latter to be reserved but cordial, limiting responses to monosyllabic words like "fuck" and "you." The initiator then realizes that they've done wrong and attmempts to retreat from the conversation. But all is futile because they're still on the train together, standing inches apart with nowhere to go. It'd be too awkward to move to the other end of the car, and the next stop is still an eternity away. They both look at each other in silence; neither wants to speak but they can't help but notice the other person now, nervously waiting for them to say something. They're impossible to ignore! Like a pink elephant sitting on your chest swearing he's hetero! The social contract of non-social derecognition has been broken and can nay be repaired. This is officially an upside down awkward turtle with an inappropriate boner kind of moment. And such is the way of the Subway Stalemate.

And the resolution of a Subway Stalemate is always the icing on the awkward cake. When the train finally finally arrives at your stop, do you acknowledge the other person and say "g'bye" or do you immediately hurl yourself through the window of that burning building of a situation and run away for dear life? The former regards the other passenger as a human being, while the latter regards them as one of the four horsemen of the apocalpyse. Decisions, decisions...

Subway Rider Rule #635: In order to prevent forest fires, wait I mean Subway Stalemates, consider boarding trains only while wearing a full suit made entirely of hardened dog poo. This is a surefire way to deter all potential mates from stale-ing with you. Alternatively, you can wear a beard made of live bees and make buzzing noises with your mouth. Or you can stab a person in the throat as soon as they utter a word to you...mentally stabbing them that is, with the dagger called emotion. If everyone followed this crucial rule, then we'd all be able to maintain our complacent, isolated, estranged (opposite of eharmony) selves.