Last night, as the F train pulls out of the Roosevelt Island station, a voice comes over the intercom: "Officer! Grab the kid in the green shirt!" We're in the tunnel and the voice repeats: "The kid in the green shirt! Grab him!"
A few seconds later, the kid apparently caught, the voice (I think it was the engineer, not the conductor) can't resist one more dig: "Oh, you're real smart, aren't you? Spit on the window and then get on the train? Reeeaaaal smart."
Today I'm on the 5 train going down to court. Middle of the day, packed. A couple of gaggles of young German tourists. A couple of men with antipodean accents asking directions to Ellis Island of an older woman. A middle-aged, small Chinese woman screaming about "your Messiah and Savior" in heavily accented English as she walks through the car. And in the middle of it all, a fully-costumed Mariachi band- beaded vests, cowboy hats, and all, at least two guitars and an accordion- playing and singing at the top of their lungs as the train weaves through the tunnel.
Only in New York, kids.