Last week’s subway train was late pulling into the station. The crowd shoving to get on board reminded me of a stampede of cows racing down a hillside before an earthquake hit. A few stations later, a commotion between two people began at the back of the car.
“Don’t touch me!” a woman yelled to a man who had pushed his way onto the car.
“Yes you did! Don’t you touch me!” she bellowed back.
Their voices intensified as we traveled through the tunnel to the next station. At this point everyone was straining their necks watching them.
A reality show was unfolding before us.
Next the name calling began, followed by obscene language, and then tempers erupted.
I didn’t want to be witness to a homicide. I prayed. I asked God to calm them down. He did, but it only lasted until the next subway station. Then both parties detonated again.
“Don’t you remember they taught you in kindergarten to keep your hands off of other people? Did you learn that?” the woman said.
The man said nothing. He drew a knife. The woman screamed even louder.
The subway was now parked at the station. Seconds later the police showed up and stepped on board. They handcuffed both parties and escorted them out of the station.
The rest of the ride home was in eerie silence.