Wednesday was Commuting Hell Day

Wednesday December 1st, 2004 will go down as the scariest commuting day of my life.

I needed to get to 23rd St in Manhattan by 1:30 pm. I left Brooklyn around 12:30 after confirming that the F train derailment from the morning had been cleared up.

I got on an F, and made it to just before the West 4th stop when the train stopped in the tunnel for some time. The conductor kept announcing updates to the situation. First there was a train ahead. That changed to a "smoke situation." The "smoke situation" led to the air being shut off on the train. People started to worry. Finally the conductor said the smoke was only getting worse. We were to pull in to the station, evacuate the train and get to the surface.

We pulled in to a completely smoke-filled West 4th station. You had to hold your breath or you would cough and gag. It was my first experience with just how easy it is to succumb to smoke inhalation. Everybody from the train raced up the same stairs. As I fought my way up, I managed to get two breaths of smoke in...and lots of coughs out. Everyone was gagging. It was scary.

The smoke hadn't really reached the A train upstairs, and we were able to quickly transfer. Somehow I was only 10 minutes late to my destination. I had no idea what happened, but later found out there was a track fire that was related to the earlier derailment.

I commuted back home around 6:00. The trains were running again, but extremely slow. It took me three times longer than normal.

At 9:00 I took the subway back to Manhattan to see Nancy Sinatra at Joe's Pub. The ride there was uneventful. I stayed out for a while afterwards, and then decided to splurge. I got a taxi home. This led to EPISODE #2.

Lesson: When the first thing a taxi driver says to you is "Can you tell me which way to go. I am new," immediately remove yourself from the car.

It's a miracle that I made it home alive. My chances of survival were better in the smoke filled subway station. I don't know how someone who can not stay in a lane, stops at green lights, slows 75% to (purposely) change lanes, doesn't know right from left, and has no idea how to get from Houston St. to the Manhattan or Brooklyn Bridges (or anywhere for that matter), got a driver's and taxi license. He told me it was his 3rd day. He got silent when I asked how long he'd been driving at all.