MTA ASSHOLE EXPERIENCE

After Cara and I went to a late show of the excellent Herzogian Rescue Dawn, we found ourselves at the Broadway/Layfayette station on eternal wait. Still out of sorts from whatever is illing me, I was taking some photos to kill time.

A work train was coming up the tracks and I decided to try and get some shots of it for the hell of it. I forgot my flash was on and got only this single image, and though you can’t make it out too well, there’s a guy standing at the front. Well, he didn’t take kindly to my photo taking and starts yelling at me “Who said you could take my picture!” And he tells the engineer to stop the train right in front of me. This freaks me out. He’s a fucking fierce looking guy and won’t look at me while he speaks to me, asking the same question. “Who said you could take my picture?” I explained I wasn’t shooting him I was shooting the train. He doesn’t say anything. I’m thinking I violated some kind of rule about shooting MTA employees, fuck if I know. I apologize and he doesn’t say anything, just looks straight ahead like he’s considering attacking me. Cara says “Let’s get out of here” and I grab my shit and we head down the platform feeling stupid, angry and of course a bit concerned.

I’d read recently about a French term l'esprit d'escalier, or “The Spirit of the Stairway”, those brilliant rejoinders you come up with after leaving a situation. Honestly, I was in no mood to get into it with that guy, I just didn’t have the moxie, and I was carrying him around in my head enough as it was. I found out I’d broken no rule at all, and maybe he honestly had problems with his photo be taken OR just wanted to fuck with me, which I think was most likely. I learned this though—make sure to turn the fucking flash off.

We eventually leave the station and walk to W4, eventually getting home but taking two hours.