Are You Someone's Subway Story?

NYC Tales from the Bodega, the Fed Ex Store, and the Ice Cream Shop

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Many New York City subway trains feature a prominently displayed message stating “Don’t be someone’s Subway story.” The implication here is that everyone should mind their own business and not become a negative footnote in the story of someone else’s life. While much of it is overblown by the media, there are undoubtedly regularly occurring negative, creepy or uncomfortable situations that occur on New York’s preferred method of transit. Sadly, it is much more common if you are a female. When millions of people converge in one place, it can make a few bad apples appear to be the norm.

The iconic orange seats are supposedly being fazed out this year.

Not sure what’s been causing it, but over the past few weeks, I’ve witnessed a few “Subway Stories” occur in every day life outside of the Subway. My astrology people, is Mercury in retrograde or something?:

1. While waiting in line to ship a package at the Fed Ex store down the street from my apartment, I removed my air pods upon hearing a confrontation break out at the front of the line. The cause? A guy was shipping a package that was not properly sealed, thus forcing the Fed Ex worker to have to pull out his roll of tape to properly seal the package. But here’s the worst part! Fed Ex policy stated that he had to charge the customer 75 cents for the tape job!

   I’m not kidding, this is the event that caused this customer to freak out on the employee. Aside from the fact he was being a prick over 75 cents, he was also holding up the line. Being the kind soul that I am, I walked to the front and offered to pay the 75 cents for him. Ok, I was being a sarcastic asshole. I admit it. But I cannot stand people who are rude to service people. He called me a Karen, I pointed out that he was the one fighting the manager. This further infuriated him. At least the target of his vitriol was now me instead of the innocent Fed Ex worker? I’m counting it as a good deed.

   

   All this over a can or ginger ale?

2. Incident #2 occurred at the holy New York institution that is an East Village bodega. Our story starts similarly, Matt is waiting in line with his air pods in when he notices another altercation break out, this one between an older gentlemen and the cashier. The cause? The older gentlemen had proclaimed that the can of ginger ale he is purchasing for $2 was available for 75 cents next door.

   I actually stayed out of this one and was merely a “fly on the wall” for the absolute cinematic experience that was unfolding in front of me. The man was of course incorrect, the ginger ale is the same fucking price next door. But instead of calling out the inaccuracy, the cashier rolled with a more savvy response. “Ok, why don’t you go next door and buy it there then?” Bodega cashiers are some of the nicest people on earth, but they are not to fucked with. The old man continued yelling at the cashier as he exited, criminally priced $2 ginger ale in tow. End of scene, fade to black.

3. Our 3rd and final “Subway Story” occurred at the Japanese ice cream spot across the street from my apartment. My girlfriend and I were waiting in line (there’s a common pattern with lines here isn’t there?) behind a middle aged woman. This ice cream spot is freakin awesome, and we’re now regulars there. Because it’s awesome, they often run out of various flavors and or menu items late in the day.

   They serve two types of cookies at the shop, one of which is clearly out of stock based on the fact that there are no cookies on the tray that says “sesame cookies” in big letters on it. Shocking right? Naturally, this woman orders the sesame cookie, knowing damn well that they are gone. The poor woman working at the shop has to keep up the charade and tell her “I am sorry, we are out of sesame cookies, can I get you something else?”

   

   Keep your bad vibes out of the ice cream shop, this is a happy place.

   Our antagonist let’s out an audible sigh, followed by “I GUESS I’ll get an oatmeal one then.” Life is pain, you poor thing. I hope you can bounce back from this gross miscarriage of justice. Once this woman leaves with her god forsaken oatmeal cookie, my girlfriend and I get to chatting with the woman manning the counter at this amazing ice cream shop. We will call her Shannon (not her real name), and she’s the biggest sweetheart ever.

   We find out she is the ONLY employee of the ice cream shop, and is a mom working 5 days a week for 14 hours (they are closed Monday and Tuesday). We ask about her kids, where she commutes from, and about her day in general. We hit it off over the fact all three of us have worked service/bar tender jobs, and that we are utterly confused by people who act like the last patron. We can both see the smile and life come back on to Shannon’s face.

   All it took was someone giving a shit about her life as opposed to treating her like a robot who’s entire existence is centered around serving their every command. We’re now regulars at the ice cream shop, and Shannon is the definition of “good vibes.” We go for the ice cream, but we also go because she puts everyone around her in a good mood.

   There’s a lot of anger in the world right now. There are a lot of people at each other’s throats, and there are sure as hell a lot of “Subway Stories” occurring around us every day. You get the choice to be someone’s positive story, or you can be the negative one that’s referenced all over the signage aboard NYC subway trains. It’s not hard to treat people like humans. It’s not hard to ask someone how they are doing. It’s not hard to simply give a shit about another person’s well being. It’s easy to simply not ruin someone’s day over a perceived slight, be it a 75 cent bill or the wrong flavor of cookie. Ask yourself, what type of Subway story do you want to be?