The invisible homeless man

It’s raining, sort of. There is a light wet mist spraying down upon the denizens of New York City this evening but the day has been with some light amount of persipitation.

I just got on the “F” train to head home and as soon as my nose crossed the threshold onto the train, I quickly looked from one end of the car to the other end. No homeless man. My nose wrinkled and twisted as I breathed in the dampness of a wet homeless man. I looked again for a homeless person but there was no one who looked down droden, filthy, or wet. I didn’t see anybody huddled in one if the corners ofthe train trying to keep warm.

The car smelled badly. I moved down the car hoping that the smell may have been an isolated entity.

It wasn’t.

When I got to West 4th Street, I moved to the next car. No funky damp smell of a person whose been wallowing in their own filth. I thought I found a descent seat and then I noticed the man across from me who was sleeping with his legs stretched out into the aisle. He looked disshevled but not terrible but I didn’t trust the situation so I moved further down. At 14th Street, I moved to the next car and finally found a seat and it doesn’t smell bad.


~ by thedailycommuter on Wednesday, February 18, 2009.

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