Subway Entertainers, Beggars, and Bums

I have a lot of respect for subway entertainers—provided they have some modicum of talent. Tourists seem to enjoy giving their money to anyone hawking anything on the train, but New Yorkers know which acts are truly worthy of that dollar bill.

One of the top acts is the break dancing kids that perform along the A, C, E line. These kids range from 5–15 years old, use the unique skills of each member of their troupe, and they know how to put the train to maximum use in their act. They enter a car, turn on a beat box, and take turns breaking. Older kids will flip younger ones to bounce off the roof of the train, two kids will link in and roll down the center aisle, while another will do acrobatics off the bars. It takes skills to pay the bills, and these kids deserve your money.

In the stations, the best break dance routine is to be found at the Times Square subway station, between the 2/3 and N/R lines. People crowd around to watch these dancers impress with their moves. Quality thrills for the whole family. Watch your wallet.

Also skilled are the mariachi players who ride along the N/R line from Sunset Park to Jackson Heights. Groups of three or four men wearing large sombreros, cowboy boots, and Western shirts adorned with fancy pearl buttons will play guitar, accordian, and percussives, and sing what I must only assume are traditional mariachi songs. They are polite and move quickly to the next car. The act is worth your time and money.

There is also a four-man doo-wop group of older African-American men on the uptown 2/3 and F lines. They aren’t great, and they stick around for a little too long singing, “Under the Boardwalk” in four-part harmony, but it’s your money, so make your own decision.

As regards non-performing beggars, I am of the mindset that if all the rest of us crazy drunks can get up every morning and go to work, so can they. I will give money to the teens selling candy so they have pocket change, and sometimes to the old African-American man on the R train who shuffles through mumbling, “Spur change, spur change,” because he’s been doing it for a decade and you have to admire that kind of dedication. His request is short, to the point, and he doesn’t pester you, unlike some down-on-their-luck types who share their tragic misfortunes with you to the point where you don’t even want to give them money anymore. Homeless folks, remember the lesson from Glengarry Glen Ross, “A-B-C: Always be closing.” Don’t talk yourself out of the sale by saying too much.

If you aren’t one of these folks, then no dice. It sounds hard, but if you can’t afford to live in New York City, you shouldn’t live in New York City.

Some bums don’t even attempt to beg. Stay away from these folks, because they have clearly lost the will to live. These are the type of crazy homeless that just sit on the train all day, and have the ability to clear out an entire subway car with either their ammonia-level stench, or their crazy, confrontational behavior. Mostly I just feel bad for these people. But not bad enough to sit near them. I am not certain if it is possible to actually die from a bad smell, but it must be somehow injurious to ingest these particles, so steer clear, just in case.

Radios on the Train

We all think our taste in music is unparalleled, but we can’t all be right. So whether your taste is Tupac or Turandot, keep it to yourself. Don’t blast your MP3 player with portable speakers because you think everyone wants to hear the hot new track you can’t get enough of. Instead, use your headphones, and try to minimize audio seepage. Do a test at home to gauge how loud your ambient music level is: If you can hear the music with the headphones in your hand, it’s too loud. If, even with headphones on, your tunes can be clearly heard by others, it’s time to ditch those Coby knockoffs and invest in a nicer set.

In that same vein, try to keep your karaoke performance limited to karaoke-specific performance venues. If you feel the urge to sing along with your portable jukebox hits, think first of how Marlee Matlin sounds when she talks. This is you, singing. If you can’t keep the music inside, just mouth the words, and leave it at that.

Try not to get carried away tapping your foot, or playing air guitar, drums, or any variety of air instruments available. Believe it or not, fellow commuters might not take too kindly to your clipping out the bass line to AC/DC’s “For Those About to Rock” on the metal subway pole with the back of your Irish Claddagh wedding ring. It is true that music soothes the savage beast, but unwanted sharing of said music could have some savage repercussions.