Thoughts That Run Through Your Mind While You're Stuck In A Subway Tunnel For Over An Hour

by Chelsee Pengal

April 6, 2015, 7 train to Grand Central, 8:37am

Whoa, that seemed like a sudden stop.

Was that the emergency brake?

Hey random passenger: Thanks, we know it’s the emergency brake.

Smells like smoke.

Hey same random passenger: Yeah, we know there’s smoke.

Where’s the smoke coming from?

Am I safer in the train or outside of it?

This tunnel is super narrow and there’s nowhere to escape to even if we do have to leave the car.

Hey MTA announcer: Don’t you know calling it a “smoke condition” doesn’t make it sound less scary?

What if we have to stay on this train for hours? Will people pee in their Starbucks cups?

Am I going to die in a subway tunnel?

Is this smoke condition serious?

I don’t want to die in a subway tunnel.

Of course I’m going to die right after the first good first date I’ve had in months.

Would someone give me their Starbucks cup to pee in if I asked nicely?

Hey MTA announcer: you already told us you’re investigating the smoke condition. What I need to know is whether I should be panicking.

If this really is a life-or-death situation, will I feel foolish for not letting myself fully panic? Or will I not care either way since I’ll be dead?

Should I write a text that says, “I love you all,” so my family will know I was thinking about them when I died?

My mom’s going to be pretty mad if I die in a subway tunnel.

No one else seems to be panicking.

Maybe this isn’t that serious.

Is “when there’s smoke, there’s fire” scientifically accurate?

What if someone other than my family finds the “I love you all” text and mistakenly thinks it means I love everyone in the world?

Hey MTA announcer: you can stop announcing things until you actually know something.

Why would the possibility of being mistakenly remembered as someone who loved all of humankind bother me?

It figures this happens on the day I was going to be on time to work.

The East River could actually burst into this tunnel right now.

Well, at least the guy in charge finally made it to our car.

If the East River burst into this tunnel right now, could we somehow swim out of it?

Oh good, from this last car we can hear them on their walkie-talkies.

Maybe it’s better not to hear this.

How many people could I drag with me if I had to swim out of a subway tunnel?

This woman and I ride the same 7 train at least 3 times a week, and I don’t know anything about her except she’s engaged and must have a long walk to work or else why would she be wearing those sneakers?

Ooh, another announcement — they wouldn’t bother announcing it if we were going to die, would they?

I could at least grab that scrawny guy right there on my way out.

Phew, I’m not going to die in a subway tunnel…today, anyway.

Good thing I didn’t drink any water before I left my apartment this morning.

Hey MTA announcer: you don’t need to tell us 3 times in a row that we’re going to be stalled until they either figure out how to fix what’s wrong or send a rescue train. No one new has gotten on since your last announcement.

Guess I’ll sit down now that I don’t have to prepare for quickly jumping off the train to run or swim for my life.

If I’d remembered to bring my book club book, I could probably finish it now. Instead I have to read what’s on my kindle app: this weird Murakami book.

How long will it be before people at work wonder where I am?

That art print I saw called Haruki Murakami Bingo truly was representative of every. Single. One. Of his books.

Why is that woman sighing and rolling her eyes? Even I know all you can do in this situation is be patient, and I’m like the least patient person in the world.

At least nothing I brought for lunch today will go bad outside of the refrigerator for 2 hours.

Hey guy next to me: I know I’m not allowed to say anything because we all just went through a potentially-but-not-severely traumatic experience, but can you please stop accidentally tapping me with your foot?

I wish I could just write over and over about cats and crazy dreams and crazy sex and get paid for it.

Why isn’t anyone making jokes to lighten the mood?

Hey fellow passengers: how come when I made the joke about the MTA guy saying they “might” send a rescue train, none of you laughed, but then when the girl on the other side of the car made the exact same joke, the people around her found it hilarious?

How many articles about this situation are currently being posted on Gothamist?

Being evacuated from a subway train is sort of okay once you know you’re not dying — I can write about it on my blog, anyway.

Does anyone at work even notice I’m not there?

It’s sad they have to actually tell everyone to put their cell phones away so they don’t drop them while evacuating the train.

I guess I’ll put my cell phone away.

How many cars does this train have? I feel like we’ve been walking through them for days.

The pictures people are getting of the backs of passengers’ heads aren’t very good.

If I were this guy behind me, I’d be really mad I had to walk all this way with a cane.

Hey guy behind me: It makes me happy that you say thanks every single time I hold each car door open for you.

Should I try to take a picture for Instagram?

Okay, time for the main event: getting onto the rescue train.

Fine, I won’t take a picture. Wouldn’t want to risk dropping an iPhone4.

Turns out evacuating to a rescue train is exactly like stepping between cars.

Hey women across from me who have met and formed a friendship in their time stuck on the train: Aww, that’s really sweet. Such bad timing to find out one of you is moving to Florida next month.

Alright, everyone’s on. We can move.

So now we’re just going to sit on the rescue train for hours?

Why is this train inching along? It’s impossible for there to be any train traffic ahead of us.

Probably no one at work even realizes I’m 2 hours late.

Hey firefighter: this is no time for jokes. We just want to get off this train.

I’m off the train!

I’m alive!

Hey firefighter: Thank you for the jokes.

Photo by Faungg