Greenpoint, 2007

While exiting the G train this morning, I overheard a quick exchange between the train operator and another fellow who was attempting to make the ride before the doors closed.

Train Operator: (leaning from the car window, motioning toward the contents of the man’s hand) Is that for me?
Man: (holding what clearly looked like an empty coffee cup stuffed with wet trash) No, it’s…
Train Operator: Then you have to wait for the next train.

He then abruptly closes the doors and speeds off.

Why? Why would a man want another man’s old garbage? He didn’t. He’s a performer. This wasn’t the first time the man in the box has screwed with a commuter. I hear him attempting to bust jokes quite often. He once told a women, who was also running to gain access to his train, not to run because she was holding a baby.
She wasn’t holding a baby. She was holding a nothing.

In conclusion, this man has no specific target. No one is safe from his incredible blend of insult and abstract comedy - those carrying something, those carrying nothing. He gots you.