The Subway Bike Story

Courage or Foolishness?

I was on a subway in NYC headed uptown on the 1/9. I’m sitting in the back of a middle car. Can’t remember where I was going exactly. That part gets burned out of the back of your memory.

There’s an elderly man standing with his bicycle on the train right in front of the door. He’s holding it by the handlebars. Three teenagers sitting across from me snatch the bike away from him grabbing it by the back wheel. Everybody on the train starts yapping away at the teens, telling them to stop and what kind of evil they are.

I stand up and grab the bicycle by the seat post. I say nothing. I stare them down they don’t meet my gaze; they don’t let go of the back wheel. The old man remains standing but doesn’t grab the bike. It’s me vs them with the bike between us.

One stop later, the doors open. One of them tries to wrestle the bike away from me. Time is running out. People on the train are shouting, but nobody else helps. Finally, the three of them run out of the train. I have the bike. I roll it to the old man. He says thanks. I sit down.

I’m not angry at the stupid kids. I’m angry at the passengers who remained in their seats yelling, but didn’t stand up to save the man’s bike. I shouldn’t have yelled at them, but I called them cowards.

I never saw any of them before. I never saw any of them again. One of these days I’m going to get my ass kicked, but it hasn’t happened yet.