Nobody puts Bill in a corner

By Bill Drust
Collegian Staff
March 1, 2006

Since I was a kid, subways have seemed scary to me. They aren’t scary in an I-might-get-robbed kind of way. They are scary in a cool way. For instance, they remind me of Patrick Swayze learning how to reach out to the living in Ghost, or a river of malicious ectoplasm á la Ghostbusters II. And who can forget the frightful fun of Michael Jackson’s video for “Bad?”

However, I have taken very little advantage of SEPTA subways while residing in Philadelphia. My first experience with subways was kind of a turn-off. It occurred during an FYO trip into the city. On the way back, the tracks caught on fire and we were left in the train for a long while, fending for ourselves amongst angry Philadelphians. When we were let out of the malfunctioning subterranean transportation vessel, a woman attempted to knock out the driver with a flurry of fists and purses. Why not? It was pretty obvious he started the fire on purpose.

This was all enjoyable to an extent, but I really saw no reason to try using the subway again. So I didn’t – until last week. I took the subway from Broad and Olney to an area somewhere near City Hall for a pleasant midday excursion with my roommate.

The first thing I noticed was a slightly old-time feel to everything. This is probably due to my exposure to so many movies. There have probably been scant changes over the years, so every facet of the trip felt like it could have easily taken place during any time from the ‘60s onward. I enjoyed this.

However, when I encountered some of the passengers, I knew I wasn’t in the mannerly 1960s. Most seemed nice enough, but many seemed to fear interaction of any type, which I suppose is a good idea. However, there was one brash young man who seemed to relish in interacting, especially with one lucky female. The young lady, who sat politely reading, seemed startled when this subway Casanova brazenly plopped down next to her. He took many quick time-outs to spew saliva and sunflower seeds onto the floor below as he offered his various flirtations. Everyone in the vicinity took notice of his unorthodox courting methods. For some reason, the bookish twentysomething seemed uninterested in his advances, and so the blossoming romance wilted. However, the spitting continued, and quite a few chuckles escaped me as I watched the woman’s disgusted eyes go many times from book to floor, to her dream date and back to book again.

After accomplishing what we had set out to do, my roommate and I made our way back to the subway. We walked through some sort of courtyard in City Hall, which I had never done. The astrological symbols on the stone ground intrigued me. Having to get back to school though, I did not have enough time to explore this area, but plan to do so in the future.

The ride back on the subway was more or less uneventful, except for the queasiness. I had not realized that we sat down in the opposite direction of where we were moving. While some of my experiments with riding backwards have been inconclusive, the outcome of this latest one was decisive – I didn’t like it. Of course, I got a grip and acted like an adult about it. Then it was on to more people-watching. Nothing too amusing, except for some young girls giggling while watching a piece of candy make its way back and forth on the train’s floor.

And so that was that. I suppose I’ll recommend SEPTA. There are a certain number of nerve-racking elements, most having to do with cleanliness and/or safety, but it beats the tension of driving into the city. There was a lack of movie or music video situations, though. I still pretended I was Peter Venkman. Somebody else can be Swayze, unless we’re talking Dirty Dancing Swayze. He’s too cool for school, as some say.

drustw1@lasalle.edu