If there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s teenagers.
Which is why, during my ride home yesterday afternoon, I ignored a strange sound on the subway. I had my iPod on, and was listening to music, but kept hearing a “snap…snap…snap” sound to my right.
I assumed it was the typical explanation: A group of teenagers being intentionally annoying on the train so as to garner negative attention from fellow train riders.
But, as the noise continued, I finally turned around and looked.
And in the corner of the train sat a small, normal-looking woman holding a sheet of Bubble wrap that dragged down to the floor. She was staring into space, absent-mindedly — or so it appeared — pressing each Bubble in a set fashion: Snap…snap…snap…snap. She didn’t care about the other train riders, who like me, had now started to turn around and openly watch her, waiting for her to stop.
The train stopped at 42nd Street, and I got out. So did she. And she followed me up the stairs, popping away. Thankfully she went off in another direction.
I quickly grabbed my notebook and scribbled: “Women obsessively snapping Bubble wrap on the train @ rush hour.”