by ja132921
ENCOUNTER
I have heard tons of subway stories about subway crimes, subway suicides, subway terrorism, subway violent assault, subway murder, subway pervert, subway rapist, subway sex and so on. I always though that were an exaggeration and very far from my reality because I considered the subway very safe and reliable where when its doors close, all of us; Latinos, gringos, black, Jews, Catholics, Indian, are riding together. In fact, I considered the subway as a place were you could find a full of weird and interesting people like the mother with her newborn asking for change, Mexican singers playing “ranchera”, drummers, guitar players, saxophonist player, people wearing custom, the sleeping dude with his jaw open, the hipster with Dr Dre headphones, the homeless women or men carrying dozens of plastic bags full of precious memories for them aka as garbage, the hard working guy, youngers with colored hair, people eating fried chicken. Only funny and weird characters I had found in the subway, never a pervert or a criminal, any similar to that. Until June 8, 2002.
The weather was perfect on that Saturday, June 8, 2002. I was living with my sister and friend, in Brooklyn. Everyday, we took the subway from Jay Street station in Brooklyn to Roosevelt Avenue in Queens and back again. On weekends, we always went to Astoria, Queens to hang out. We loved long commutes; we enjoyed that long hour in the subway. But that day something unexpected happen.
There were three of us Latina girls waiting for the E train at Steinway station in Astoria, Queens at three in the morning after being partying the entire night.
The train station was quite; there were just the three of us. The waiting time was long as usual. We were tired and wanted to go home soon. We though in taking a cab but we decided to save that money.
We were seating on the bench as we were hearing steps and voices from the distance. Those voices sound like they were fighting. We didn’t understand because neither of us speaks English. But I can tell when someone is fighting for the tone of his or her voice. We heard their steps when they were climbed down the stairs. We were still. We didn’t move. We exchanged glances while we were trying to be calmed.
The train arrived just on time. We run as the train opened its doors. However, they run too and get into the same wagon.
They were three girls, three creepy girls. As they get into the train they were having troubles balancing their bodies. Their eyes were red and they were sweaty. They sat down facing left diagonal from us. One was chubby, who looked like a man with short red hair and was wearing a white tank top and jeans were a metal chain was showing. The other two were skinny. One was blonde wearing a skirt and a black t-shirt, and the other one had dark long hair wearing dark jeans and wearing gothic makeup.
They were no fighting anymore. Instead, they were passionately kissing each other, creating a physical obsession.
We were in shock!!
“What the fuck is that!!” I said.
The chubby girl was digging her fingers into the blonde’s girl skirt and flesh, their breasts pushed into theirs while the dark hair girl was using her tongue to caress the chubby’s girl ear and using her right hand to tighten her ass. They were moaning and making noises like “mmm yeah’. They were smiling and sexually exited.
They had an audience; the three of us, a skinny man, and an old lady. However, the other two did not pay attention to what had happened.
Our eyes were wide open. We couldn’t believe what had happened. We couldn’t stop looking at them with our jaws touching the floor. It was our first time we saw lesbians, lesbians in action.
We were studying their movements and observing every detail and we were very attentive on where their hands were, until, until the chubby girl shouted some English words, looking mean at us. We trembled and I said to my sister and friend to stop looking at them. I stood up and I sat facing my sister and friend to avoid looking at them. But my friend couldn’t stop and with the corner of her eyes was staring at them.
The chubby girl stood up and got close to my friend and shouted at her “what are you looking at”, at the same time she was pulling a knife from her pocket. We were so scared, and we did not know what to do.
Then, she threw a punch towards my friend’s face but she missed her because my friend could dodge from that punch. Thank God the skinny man who was in the train helped us by holding the chubby girl hand to take the knife away. But this girl was so strong that she decided to fight with this man.
The other two girls were screaming at the chubby girl to stop while we were paralyzed and worried about that poor man. He run and could open the sliding door between car trains and stood there and the chubby girl was trying to open it.
The train made it stops and it doors propped open. We all three run away through the corridor of the 23rd Street-Ely Avenue Station. I turned my head back to see if anyone was behind us, no one, luckily. Our instinct was to report to someone. Tell the police. We saw a man with blue uniform at the middle of the corridor. We scream “police officer! Help, help, help us!”
We reached him and we started to explain our situation. We said “a girl, knife, train, man” We explained with mimics using our hands and talking to him in Spanish. Of course! He couldn’t understand and he called a bilingual officer with his radio. The adrenaline was leaving us. The other one came and we explained what had happened. He asked what was the train car number. I said “What?” Who in this earth after being in the edge of being stab could pay attention on the car train number? What an absurd question. I said, “I don’t know”. He explained that without that information they couldn’t do anything. Immediately, I thought about the poor guy and I wished him good luck. But I believe that nothing bad happened to him because we didn’t hear, see or read on the newspaper any tragedy relate to that night. The police officers drove us home.
That night was our first encounter in the subway. We encounter the subway criminal, and we were very close of a subway murder. My confidence in riding the subway changed because not only funny characters are in the subways there is many crazy and mentally ill people too. Every now and them I ride the subway with much precaution and never ever again I will stare at anyone because something extreme might happen and no one is free from danger.