I was sitting next to a guy on the Long Island Railroad who – unfortunately for me – decided to get a little snack for the ride home…an extra large carnival-size bag of buttered popcorn. This guy must have been starving, as he was shoving handfuls of popcorn the size of softballs at his face. No mouth being large enough to accommodate 20+ popped kernels all at once, half of them rolled down the side of his mouth, onto my shoulder, and to the floor below. But most settled nicely within the crease of my newspaper as I was reading. At least he was nice about it – apologizing after each handful.

You’re on the train – not home on the couch watching Movies on Demand!

For convenience and injury prevention, please consider printing a tabloid size “Commuter Edition.” You’re still The Times, we won’t think anything less of you for it. We’ll thank you.

If you are going to read a newspaper as big as The New York Times on the train, please learn how to fold the paper properly so as not to hit people in the head, dish out paper cuts, or elbow jab your neighbors every time you turn the page.

I think it’s funny to watch how annoyed people get listening to others talk on the phone while riding public transportation.  I’ve seen people livid, shooting dirty looks, and complaining to anyone who will listen.  Then, their phone rings, they answer, and start yapping away themselves…hypocrites!

Waiting for the #7 train at Times Square, I saw this guy inhaling a Big Mac and fries right out of the greasy, brown McDonald’s bag.  As the train pulled in, he decided he was done and crumpled the bag with both hands and tossed it behind him on the platform…ignoring the trash can a few feet to his left.

Still chewing his last bite, he grabbed a seat on the train and, out of nowhere, was viciously struck in the face with that same bag he just littered. French Fries and ketchup exploded all over his white button down shirt.  Looking up with complete shock and anger, a gray bearded homeless man appeared in the doorframe, pointing with all the authority a 110-pound man could muster, yelling, “SOME PEOPLE LIVE DOWN HERE, A–HOLE!” The doors closed shortly after. What goes around comes around I guess.

Riding the subway the other day, an announcement came over the intercom:
“We are delayed due to train traffic ahead of us.” No patience for this, a gentleman behind me let out a big sigh. The smell of his breath was like a punch in the face. I never thought a human’s breath could smell that bad. Even worse, the odor also emanated from his nostrils. In a crowded car with nowhere to escape, I, and the others around me were forced to withstand one of the worst attacks of bad breath in history. It was the longest ride of my life, even though it lasted only 5 minutes.

Why is it that Subway conductors always stick their head out of the window as the train pulls out of the station? It seems dangerous…and they remind me of canines riding in the back seat.

There is a panhandler who sits outside of my 6 train stop every morning. At first glance, he looks pretty unlucky and deserving of some money. But after a while I started to notice that he wears a different throwback jersey every day. Those things are like $200 a piece! I’m pretty sure he makes more money than I do.

Just because I forgot to close the small zipper on my backpack, doesn’t mean I am offering this as a trash receptacle.  I just found a rotten apple core in there…judging by the color, it’s probably been there for a week or two…I think. Thanks buddy.

The worst part about commuting is realizing you have to do it all again tomorrow…