There were some MTA employees standing on the platform. One had a lantern. At one point there was frantic whistle-blowing and waving of the lantern over the edge of the platform. This seemed strange to me in the age of radio waves, etc. The train eventually came in, and I sat in the back corner, near the dark man with sunken eyes who had a large, dirty cooler and a plastic bag resting on top. I settled in, and after a stop, looked up to see if the train would start moving again. I accidentally made eye contact with a cute blue-eyed boy with a light beard. He and his artist-type friend were chatting, and the friend was holding a mysterious shoe box. After a stop, cute boy sat next to me, and box boy sat in front. I tried to become even smaller in my PP trench, listening to my music and reading my book. They got off a stop before me, and by then I had not-really read 16 pages of this:
