Monday, December 12, 2005
Pushing the Red Button. A woman stumbled and weaved dangerously close to the edge of the subway platform which prompted me to approach her and ask if she were ok. I noticed too she had left her bag sitting on the bench. She was a pretty thirty-ish woman with eyes spinning in her head. "Thanks I'm ok she slurred," but then half fell over. Before I could call for help the train arrived and she boarded. I followed her onto the same car. She promptly dropped her bag onto the floor and slumped into a heap across two seats. The person sitting next to her moved three seats over. The rest of the crowded car stared or purposely looked away. So I got up and pushed the damn red button which doesn't bring the train to a screeching halt but rather puts you in direct contact with the train operator. I told him there was a woman in distress. "What car are you in?" he asked. He repeated the question as I looked around for a number that would identify the car. It was then, finally, that the rest of the people on the train pitched in to help. Almost simultaneously, and with a look of relief on their faces, the passengers called out that we were in the second car. Within a nano-second a plain-clothes security person boarded our car as soon as the train pulled into the next stop. Walkie-talkie in hand, he gently escorted the heroin addict (that would be my guess) off the train. Now is that so hard?
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