There’s blood in my eye, part 2
So I actually like the blood in my eye. It’s causing a lot of double-takes and extended stares. You look at me and I look normal but…something’s. not. quite. right. As the blood spot is in the lower left corner of my eye and comes up right to my iris, my left eye looks a bit black, like in The X-Files, after succumbing to the mysterious black oil.
In other exciting news, today was the first time in my 18 years of living/working in New York City that I had to evacuate a subway train. I was minding my own business, reading the NYTimes’ “Dining In” section where an article on flavored vodkas had caught my attention, when *screeeech* the train lurched to a stop. Accustomed to such minor inconveniences on the subway, I kept reading and didn’t give it a second thought.
As the minutes stretched on, I noticed we’d been sitting a long time, but wasn’t worried. Then the conductor came on: signal failure up ahead and a train out of service two stations ahead. Oof. So I read some more. Wondered why the Times was so fundamentalist sometimes, especially in their food writing. Ok, so flavored vodkas are probably a little gauche, but whatever!, they’re fun and you can be inventive with them. So what if I choose to use lime vodka (which by the way, I wouldn’t; not that interested) instead of “squeezing some fresh lime juice into a good vodka” as the Times would have you believe is the echt way to do it. You can just hear rarefied sniff at the end of that comment.
But wait! Movement! The subway lurches forward about…10 feet. Then stops. The lights flicker. The conductor’s voice over the speakers again: “we apologize for the delay. We have…” Silence. “…signal failure and…” Silence. “A train is out of service and we have signal failure in Queens. We apologize for the delay.” Now the natives are getting restless. Signs, moans, groans, and curse words start bubbling up from the previously quiet bunch on this morning’s uptown B train. I keep reading about vodka and notice that I am now thirty minutes late for work. We have been sitting in this tunnel for half an hour!
The train lurches to life again and slowly creeps ahead another few feet. The conductor again: “This train is out of service and must be evacuated. Please proceed to the first car. The first car is in the station. Proceed to the first car and exit on the platform.” This is a first.
I’m happy to report that the passengers exited the train with order and good decorum after a rather long walk (I was in a rear car and it took forever to get all the passengers out. If you can believe it, rubber-necking was at an all-time high as people took the time to glance out the windows at the dimly lit subway tunnel and peek inside the motorman’s car as we passed through it.)
I emerged with my alien eye to continue the day, musing on a new New York experience and secretly cherishing the funny dark spot in my eye that’s turned out to be a source of illumination in a span of days that were otherwise marked by boredom and tension.