Pick a Game-winner

A couple of weeks ago, I had a friend tell me that she saw a woman with blue fingernails picking her nose on the subway. This struck me as odd. I can't imagine that someone who -- a) takes the time to paint her fingernails, and b) seeks out the blue fingernail polish among all of the shades of red and pink -- would also be someone that would pick her nose on public train. It seems incongruous: why spend all that time making your nails look pretty if you're just going to shove 'em up your nose?

In the subway, you are in a metal container with people from all over the city: a sardine in the can of everyday life. I always try to look around at people, while of course giving the impression that I am staring into space. If I get caught looking, sometimes I just close my eyes and pretend that I was sleeping. If they don’t believe that I am, at least I can't see their disdain.

Sometimes things can get a little uncomfortable, like the time I didn't hold on to the overhead railing and fell backward onto the lap of a man that was reading a paper. The whole thing happened in slow motion for me: arms flailing and trying to grip, like a cat falling off a couch, until I ran into him. It really looked like one of those Santa scenes at the mall, I guessed, but he wasn't jolly. He growled and scowled behind his sunglasses as I offered my apologies. Honestly, I think I may have ruined his day.

But then there was the time I was sitting next to a college-age kid on the 6 train going downtown. As can sometimes happen, a man came around asking for a handout. I am hit-or-miss when it comes to this situation - sometimes I give, but more often I don't. I think of all of the valid reasons why it's okay that I don't give him money -- that he'll use it for booze/drugs, that I work for my money so why shouldn't he -- and often this rationalization roll call gets me through the awkward stage of refusal.

This kid was just sitting in his non-descript sweatshirt and jeans, looking tired and frowning. As the man came up to me, I said that I was sorry but that I didn't have anything for him. He moved on. This kid, still frowning, reached into his pocket and pulled out a five. This was more than he wanted to give. He reached in again, and rooted around through change and papers, but found nothing. So, he gave the guy his only five.

The benefactor got off at the next stop, and was followed out the door by the guy who had received the five dollar bill. As this man walked out the door, he pumped his fist like he had just hit the game-winning shot.

The kid didn't seem any happier after giving his gift. And the guy may well have used it for booze. Seeing it happen, though, I knew it didn't matter. It made my day better, made the game-winner's week -- and I'm pretty sure the karma wheel's going to land on Jackpot for that kid somewhere along the line.

The subway is an interesting place to start and finish your day. You just need to remember to hold on, observe while pretending not to, and otherwise keep your nose clean. So to speak.