Great Balls of Fire

Yesterday, my subway car caught fire.

Okay, maybe I'm being dramatic.

I don’t know if the car was on fire, or if the track was on fire, or if some homeless man was on fire on the platform. What I DO know is that there was a fire somewhere near me.

I’m not prone to panicking, but when riding on the subway, I have very little confidence that my conductor (who can barely put together a coherent sentence) will be in control of the situation (ie: the GIGANTIC BLAZING FIRE).

I mean, there are a ton of things that could catch on fire in the subway. Check out this Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles bullshit I saw on the A line track at Penn Station:


Did someone get slimed? Where’s Rosie O’Donnell? I want my Kids Choice Award!

Anyway, everything was going as per usual: I was wedged up against the door of the train, uncomfortably close to a Hasidic Jew, observing how perfect his curls are (for realsies, do they use a curling iron?).

All of a sudden, we get to the Broadway-Nassau station and all of the Wall Street jerks get out. I knock an old lady down so I can get a seat.

Then the subway car starts filling up with smoke. If Ralph Wiggum were in the subway car with me, he would have shrieked, “it smells like burning!”

The train goes out of service (presumably because it’s on fire), and everyone is told to wait for the next subway car. Firemen are running on the platform.

Call me a nervous Nancy, but I’m gonna take a cab.

Because the MTA now “encourages” New Yorkers to complain by providing an email address to write to, I figured I would do it. If a Smoky Robinson train isn’t cause for an email, what is?

Subject: Great Balls of Fire

Hey,

My subway car caught fire this morning.

Keep up the good work.

Best,

Amanda

I thought it was funny, and I figured I would never get a response. A few hours later, I get one (probably from an intern) with a case reported incident number, titled “Great Balls of Fire Incident 090604-000084.” The body of the email was a form letter, apologizing for the incident and assuring me of the MTA's commitment to safety.

Whaaaaatever. The fact that this douchey email subject line I wrote is filed somewhere warms my heart.