Get Your Zs on the Z Train

Some people will advise against sleeping on the train, but like most everything else in life, it’s all in how you do it. Should you choose to do your dozing on the D line, it is imperative that you develop a strong stop-wake reflex. With some effort, you can train yourself to open your eyes every time the train comes to a stop. You don’t have to completely stop sleeping; even one eye opened is sufficient to tell you where you are, and when you need to transfer.

These tips will help you negotiate a successful train nap:

Choose your seat wisely. Find a somewhat secluded seat, away from loudmouths, preferably one facing an empty seat for you to rest your feet upon. But make sure it’s not too secluded; you don’t want to wake up to find yourself in car with you in the role of Sleeping Beauty, with Dopey and Grumpy trying to kiss you out of your coma.

Don’t expect to rest your nodding, sleepy head on your neighbor’s shoulder. If you didn’t bring a friend to lean on, make sure your head has a window to prop itself against.

If you have a bag, wrap the handle around your shoulder. That way, when you wake up, you’ll still have the shit you walked in with.

Don’t fall asleep with a cup of coffee or other beverage in your hand. You’ll drop it, guaranteed, and that ruins your nap. Also, don’t fall asleep with candy in your mouth. I recently watched with concern/disgust as a relatively well-dressed white man, clearly completely strung out on heroin, nodded off for nearly an hour with a Blow-Pop in his mouth. A thin strand of spit ran steadily down the lolly stick onto his backpack. Sometimes the lollypop would fall out of his mouth, and stick to his jeans or fall onto his filthy backpack, which was lying on the floor. Each time he regained consciousness, he’d shove it right back in his mouth, floor grit and all.

Despite following these rules, sometimes you will overestimate your ability to sub-sleep, and will wake up somewhere near the Coney Island rail yards. It’s a real bitch, mostly because if you were so exhausted to begin with, you were most likely out drinking or cavorting until 4 a.m., and now the sun is rising over the beach, and you’re reenacting the final scene of The Warriors.

My advice: If you can afford to take a cab home from wherever you are, do so. Otherwise, you have to cross over to the other side of the platform, wait for that train to arrive, take it back to the original point where you were supposed to transfer, exit, cross back over to the other side of the platform, and wait for your transfer train. It is frustrating as all hell, most of the platforms by the yards are outdoors and sketchy, and at night, the trains run none too fast.

Weekend at Bernie’s

Oh. So that guy wasn’t sleeping after all. It’s terrible, but sometimes people drop dead on the subway. Sometimes, people can’t tell for a while, either. If you happen to find a dead guy on the subway, tell the police or an MTA official. Or, just move into the next car, if you think your conscience can handle leaving some dead guy for the next person to find. Me, I feel bad leaving pee on the toilet seat, but hey, you might be totally okay with it. Just don’t rob the corpse. Or do rob it. What does he care, he’s already dead. And what do I care? I’ve got somewhere else to be.