The Perils of Off-Peak

Toward the end of last week I found myself fast becoming a notable subway aberration following a multi-month cold turned minor sinus infection turned - well, suffice it to say that I hadn't lost my sense of propriety in terms of dress or decorum, rather my transgression was of the third option with the formation of a tremendous, hideous, bulbous sty: that of the physical freak. Perhaps my eye just felt itslef lonely on that side of my nose with the ear so far away. Perhaps it just needed a friend. Well, tea bags and eye drops got tired quick so I cut out of work early for a trip to the doctor. I found the train pretty mellow during the day, and I was grateful, especially in my diminished state, to be afforded a seat almost immediately. I was not quite so grateful, however, that it turned out to be something of a ringside seat. Ladies and gentlemen, in the red corner we had a shabbily dressed middle-aged man holding a garish chrome briefcase whose contents must be truly mystefying, as between his shiny Chuck Taylors rested two large bags from Jack's 99-Cent Store, whose contents were revealed through much concentration and squinting of the one giant eye to be innumerable boxes of Ramen Noodles, seriously, lots of 'em. The other hand, I would learn, must remain unencumbered because, ladies and gentlemen, in the blue corner was one silver Norelco ear- and nose-hair trimmer, seriously, and it was buzzing away. Now, the point of insertion is actually more of a point to ponder than one would imagine. Were he to opt for the nose, of course it would be pretty unpleasant to behold, but that would be mitigated by the fact that it would presumably cause him some degree of pain (just deserts) and therefore be done with sooner. Instead, he opted for the aural entrance and, rather unfortunately, took to it with the zeal usually reserved for cotton swabs and the like. He was really digging in, working it, pursuing that eargasm. Such a display of emotion, and such a public display, was infinitely more gruesome that than a quick tug of some nose hair. Luckily the daytime subway gods are benevolent and he was soon seated comfortably, as was his super party-pack of Ramen Noodles, both slumped on either side of the briefcase, him snoring through the untrimmed tresses.