Three incidents come to mind. All happened in the 1980s and 1990s. All three are totally crazy.

As I was on the uptown #4 train, in a totally sardine-packed morning rush-hour ride, I watched a man eat his newspaper as he read it. He literally peeled the paper vertically in neat rows, as he read the article. He would then ball up the pieces of newsprint…and eat them. Everyone around him was stunned. Some of us were laughing in disbelief. He couldn’t have cared less. He just kept digesting the news. It was shocking and hilarious. This all happened within a space where people were inches from each other’s faces. Imagine that.

One evening , I sat on a fairly empty F-train car heading back to Brooklyn from Manhattan. A girl was sitting opposite me and every time the train car “leaned” into a turn…a large dried out human turd would roll out from under a seat and into full view. When the train car leaned back into position the turd would roll back under the train seat. At first we couldn’t believe our collective eyes. And then it would come out for a peek around again. We became inconsolably hysterical laughing. It was side-splitting laughter. We never spoke…we just laughed our asses off. And we never saw each other again after that.

Then there was the time, after a long drought, that I was on the morning F-train with a lot of people and umbrellas taken out for the first time in a while. It was an on-again off-again rain fall that day. A man sitting opposite from me sat down with his full-sized umbrella between his feet, handle in hand. I guess he didn’t need to use it before boarding the train. I saw a cockroach peek over the top edge of the umbrella. I shivered a little because I have a visceral fear of cockroaches. The man then saw it and swatted at it. Well that must have pissed off the “intrusion” of roaches (yes, that’s what a herd of cockroaches is called) hiding in the umbrella…because within seconds the man was swarming with cockroaches…they were on his face and arms and legs and chest and head and everybody around him scattered - me included. We all crammed down to one end of the car as he did a watusi of terror. There was some mild screaming because people literally become unraveled around cockroaches. He was like a man on fire…he couldn’t swat or swipe or pull or push them off him because they were all over him. I’m cringing as I write this. It was like a horror show. I got off at the next stop needless to say. I still open my umbrella carefully and even if I’m not recalling that nightmare moment, I am instinctively aware to open it outside and as far away from myself as possible.

One summer Saturday night, about 11, we were riding the 6 Train from Grand Central to Astor Place, about a 10-minute ride, if that. Packed train. Standing next to me was a guy about 30 carrying a suitcase that had seen better days.
Just as the train pulled away from Grand Central I began to hear a voice coming from the suitcase. "Let me out! Let me out!" Then others in the train heard the voice calling. The guy in a loud whisper said, "Hush! Please just shut up." The voice persisted.
The guy set the suitcase down and opened it. Inside we saw a fabulous ventriloquist's dummy. The dummy look up at me, rolled his eyes, and said, "You are REALLY ugly." He looked across the aisle at a women maybe in her late 50's and said, "What are you laughing at. You're not much better!"
So here are 40-50 New Yorkers on a Saturday night totally absorbed in the subway roaring along and having a wonderful time as this ventriloquist practices with us.
The whole event lasted just 10 minutes.

I was returning home later than usual after a long day bombarded with studies at my college.

There were few people on the subway (F train) that night, in fact I was the only one in my cart.

The F train ran its route underground. Reception would come and go… subsequently it also affected the music coming out of my earbuds.

I had a seat in the corner with my head tilted to the side railing as I fought the sleep in my eyes. Public snoozing is a no go in my book so I procrastinated the best I could.

…

…

…

…

…

Suddenly my eyes open. The train was standstill.

"Did I miss my stop? It was the last stop, how could I?"

The lights fade away one by one.

I jolt out of my seat and attempt to peak through the glass doors to look for clues.

Darkness.

Using the flashlight on my phone I found the quarter-sized red emergency button.

"Hello."

"What are you still doing on board? We just parked up for the night."

"I'm sorry. I fell asleep."

"Okay, hang tight. We're heading back."

Relieved. I sat back down. The lights flickered back on and the engine started humming.

Just as the train started moving, the sliding door between carts flung open.

A white bearded black man in a wheelchair triggered it.

He was wearing a raggedy navy colored hoodie and glasses so thick they could probably see into the future.

He made audible noises as his lungs searched for oxygen. He was sweating profusely, like he just lept out of a pool.

It was then I noticed he had no limbs. He managed to open the door somehow someway.

My mind was blown like an oversized birthday balloon (!!!)

He huffed and puffed along on to the next car, as I collected myself promising to use toothpicks to keep my eyelids from shutting next time.

1. A young man (20 something) striking up a conversation with a random 20-something stranger and getting a date. Basically the man was holding a guitar in a case and struck up a random conversation with a woman and then talking about music and clubs. He mentioned that he was playing at a club and that if the woman wanted to see him play that he could get her and any friends in free and then he left her with his business card with his number and his band. I was watching him talk to the woman and thinking that this person was just incredibly smooth in the way he could flirt with a random stranger and make her feel relaxed.
2. Street performer doing acrobatics on a moving subway car. The guy seemed to be flying.
3. There was someone playing handball on a subway platform. Bouncing the ball against the wall. Ball falls into the tracks. Guy goes into the tracks picks up the ball, and keeps playing.
4. Man and woman in a quiet but tense conversation. Woman was convinced man was secretly talking pictures of her with his cell phone and wanted to see the phone which they man refused to show her. It was uncomfortable because it was clear that one of the two people was unbalanced, but it was not clear who. (I am guessing the woman.)

This incident doesn’t really qualify as insane, but it was sure comical to ME! ….

A couple of months ago, I was returning home on the “A” train after a l…o…n…g and tiring job at a house in Nassau County, Long Island (I clean windows and that house had eleven hours straight of window-cleaning work). Also, under the warm temperature conditions of that day, I dress in shorts, sandals and any one of the MOST RAGGEDY, threadbare and holey tee shirts I own (for “natural ventilation!”).
During the commute home from the job, I began dozing off a few times and probably appeared like a real “sad sack” due to fatigue and the worn-out summer-ware.

A man who was sitting across from me got up, approached me AND HANDED ME A $5 BILL! I attempted to refuse it, asserting that I was NOT starving to death (as what probably seemed to him)…But he refused to take “no” for an answer and insisted: “No…Please Accept It.”
I smiled and sincerely thanked him as I then accepted his offering.

It’s the very first time that my advancing age (59) and poor attire had “caught up” with me in such a manner!

I've seen many crazy things on the subway, and I'm pretty sure my elders have seen even crazier stuff from before my time, so it's hard to pick just one. And yes, I've seen the usual suspects - public masturbators, drunks and drugs, harassment, preachers, all sorts of buskers, etc.

For me, I guess it'd have to be the thing with the least explanation.

I was sitting with my headphones on, trying to rest but not sleep - so basically, I was just keeping my eyes closed, opening them periodically to check what stop we were at.

At one point, I open my eyes, and see a large, portly bald man, dressed a little schlubbily (i.e. not quite shabby, but not well-put-together - like someone's lazy uncle on a weekend)...

...and he is perfectly horizontal, in mid-air a good several feet off the ground, flying toward the pole directly in front of me. Head-first. I remember this moment frozen in time for a split second.

And only a split second, because in the next instant, his shiny head hit the equally shiny pole, with a ringing KLANG.

I looked around the car, and almost everyone but him was seated. And all of us had the same expression I must've had: Silent, wide-eyed confusion. Looking around the car, there was not a single clue as to what just lead to this moment. Either all of us in the car woke up at the same time, or he appeared out of thin air, or I don't know what.

The guy stood up, a bit wobbly, giggled, and then the doors opened and he got off the train. And I continued on my 7 AM commute to school.

I still like to think he was a mischievous mad scientist, who was just taking his teleportation device out for a spin, and delighted to find out it worked. It's much funnier than the more likely (and more boring) truth that he was likely drunk and attempted some amateur acrobatics during the morning commute. Either way, though, that single frame is still burned in my memory: Opening my eyes at the exact moment to see this tubby human missile straight in front of me, perfectly horizontal in mid-flight.

I‘ve ridden the subway for over 60 years but i cannot say I saw many strange incidents. That may be because as a native New Yorker, I have a high threshold for what is to be considered strange.

One afternoon I was riding home. The train was crowded with teens who had been dismissed. There was standing room only. All seats were occupied and I had to stand. I am not in good heslth and have difficulty standing for an appreciable amount of time. My legs were losing sensation. At that point, a man older than me, rose from his seat and offered it to me. Not a single teen did that. I had to sit or collapse. He in turn was not offered any seat.

This happened 20+ years ago, but it still sticks in my mind.

I was on the 6 train leaving 42nd St/Grand Central Station, going to 28th St. I ran into my manager, and we boarded the train and were chatting together. I'm about a foot taller than my manager, so when I saw the woman, my eyes must have gotten as large as saucers, because my manager turned, saw what I saw, and then snapped her head back, shutting her eyes.

Walking through the train was a woman, totally naked except for a scarf on her head, winding her way through the crowds, saying, “Excuse me, excuse me…” Of course, when everyone saw her, they immediately got out of her way!

The presence of a naked woman naturally delayed the train while the police searched for her. This was back when Grand Central had homeless people literally living in the building, but I don't believe it's like that anymore.

I'm glad my manager was there to witness it, otherwise no one would have ever believed me. They would've thought I was making it up as an excuse for being late!

A friend told me he was riding in a subway and, when the train stopped at a station, a man sitting next to him stood up and exited the car. Noticing a pair of leather gloves on the vacated seat, my friend picked the gloves up, ran to the closing door, threw them onto the platform, and yelled, "You forgot your gloves" to the man's back.

Pleased with himself for doing a good deed, my friend returned to his seat and sat down. Seconds later he felt a tap on his shoulder from the man who'd been sitting on the other side of the passenger who left the train. When the stranger was sure he had my friend's attention he quietly and politely said, "Excuse me. Those were my gloves."

Wierd is not the word. Beautiful is. A few years ago my friend and I went to NYC for a week. As a teen I lived on Long Island and was a regular Subway user and we were the Weirdos, doing comedy routines, singing and passing a hat. But as 60 plus year old ladies from Texas, we were a little nervous.

It was the 4th of July. We had gone down to the waterfront to see the fireworks. Just waiting for our train was an experience.

The trains were standing room only and every car looked like a true melting pot. Every age, race and even one Hassidic Jew with curls. In fact, my friend and I were about the only other white folks on our car. Everyone was silent. The fireworks were over. We were tired. It was late.

Suddenly a beautiful black girl started singing God Bless America in a voice that only God gives. Her voice was ringing through the car. Little by little we all joined her. Then we sang the National Anthem. Then Proud to be an American and every other patriotic song we could come up with. When we ran out we sang them again. At the stops, hardly anyone one got off. We sang and sang till the end of the line. Then we sang on the platform and in the train headed back.

As each person got off there were high fives and thumbs ups and giant smiles. I had tears running down my face. I could barely sing ( which is good as I sound like a croaking frog)

That was the America we need to strive for, even at one train car at a time.

One story comes to mind when I was standing next to a Hasidic Jew on the train in the early 90’s before I moved to LA.

For those not that familiar with the culture in NYC, the Hasidic Jews are largely insular in their culture, and do a good job keeping to themselves, to the point that many of them won’t use public transportation much, and often have their own busses chartered to get to and from work, or wherever their common destination is.

I will also admit that I don’t know a lot about their culture, so feel free to enlighten me if you think I’m off on the facts.

Anyway, I was standing next to one on the train, and he asked me about a stop coming up. I answered his question without thinking anything of it the same way any decent person would. He then gave me this eternally grateful thanks that seemed very out of the ordinary.

He obviously didn’t spend much time riding the subway to know his way around the system, and it seemed like he spent so much time in his insular culture that he was grateful for a courteous answer from somebody outside his culture. It seemed like the subway ride and asking somebody a question outside of his culture was way outside of his scope of daily life.

If my suspicions were true, I hope he kept trying to branch out and normalize relations outside of whatever he was used to.

I would not say weird, but quite entertaining.

I was in my 20s and commuting home on the N train back to Astoria. It was a Friday night and it was around rush hour, so a bit packed. An older man was next to me and must have been exhausted from his long work week. He was falling asleep early on in the ride.

My stop was Astoria Blvd, closer to the end of the line. As we were getting closer to the end the train began to clear out. The older man was still sleeping. By this time he was leaning against me and knocked out. I tried shaking him to wake up and he wouldn’t wake up. He was breathing, so clearly he was just a heavy sleeper.

The woman on the other side of him saw me trying to get the man up and off my shoulder. She leaned over and broke out In her opera voice Brahms lullaby.

She sang so loud and beautiful. It was like I was right there, front row at the MET. She was singing so loudly, right in his ear. He still didn’t wake up! He didn’t even budge. The whole train just looked over, like this was a completely normal everyday activity.

Finally, he woke up, and I got off at my stop. That was a great NYC moment.

I’ve seen a lot of strange things in the subway but the one that sticks out the most.

It was about 3 in the afternoon and I was on my way to work. I got on the subway and sitting across from me was a gentleman drinking a Snapple and to my right was a mother with her young daughter.

I started reading my book when I hear what sounded like liquid being poured onto the floor. I thought “This guys pouring out his Snapple on the floor”. When I look up and discover that after he finished his Snapple he was pissing in the bottle.

I had just moved here and thought, of course, this is out of the ordinary. When I look over at the woman and her daughter and they say there casually as if nothing was happening.

People in New York really don’t give a shit what others are doing. It was just another day on the subway.

It’s hard to answer, because strange things happen all the time, so they become normal, but here are some random memories:

• A packed train that seems too full for anyone else to enter. A child suddenly become sick to his stomach and spins in a circle violently puking. An empty circle mysteriously appears around him.
• A man with a marvelous voice, giving crazy misogynistic speeches on the E Train Platform (Madison Ave, I think)
• A pianist with an actual piano (not just a keyboard)
• Musicians with wonderful, non-Western instruments
• A trainful of Santas on their way to SantaCon
• Rats and Pigeons
• Subway cars with a marvelous NY mixture, including everything from couples in full Black Tie attire, to the homeless
• Acrobatic performers spinning, swinging and flipping on a moving subway car

But to a New Yorker, I’m not sure that any of these would be considered strange!

It’s not the rats. They are a mainstay and a staple since anyone can remember. They’ve inhabited ships for millennia, so I just think of the NYC Subway System as a sprawling inside out ship.

It’s not the homeless, mostly men but today I actually saw my first passed out women in a long time at the far end of the 14th Street 4, 5, 6 platform. Most of the women have, and rightfully so, sought safer nooks and crannies elsewhere.

There are the quiet but conscious people, so very tired and so freakin’ beaten down. Their worldly possessions have become an out of proportion hoarding of rags and newspapers, in bags too many to conceivably transport.

These are people. What happened to them? Who of us is next? I spent many a night sleeping on the subway when I was in high school and things weren’t all that copacetic at home, but not like this.

It’s not the pitchmen (and women) with their hard luck stories and 99% of them are probably hustlers.

It sure as hell aren’t the mariachi bands. These guys never fail to make me smile, even if it’s just the surreality of their exploding on to the scene and moving on just as fast when they’re done.

None of those.

It’s the selfish and inconsiderate ‘music fans’. It’s become as if they are daring somebody to tell them to shut the fuck up. Earbuds are a dime a dozen and they can’t be bothered. Instead, they’d rather subject everybody to screaming scratchy overmodulated crap that makes a 1960 transistor radio some like a Dolby sound system in comparison. Where are the boom boxes when we need them?

What’s with this technological schism with which we are now saddled? Cell phones have horrible call quality (when they’re not actually dropping calls) and whoever added a speaker should be drawn and quartered. They are the bane of every public gathering and the satan of every public performance.

The very suggestion of adding cell service to in-flight services is more than an accident, it’s an apocalypse waiting to happen.

Back to our unwanted shitty music recital. It then goes up a notch. The filthiest, violent and, worst of all, misogynist diarrhea squealing for all around.

They are surrounded by paralyzed bystanders who don’t know what to do. Do they say something? Will anybody back them up or will they be left out to dry? Will they be considered the bad guy?

I have stood my ground twice. Once, for some reason, that morning’s Casey Kasem from hell decided to get up and head towards the space next to me that was just vacated. I expanded to take up both spaces and said, “You’re not sitting here with that shit.”

It worked.

The other time it wasn’t vulgar sound waves but some guy wanted to play what seemed like an entire album right next to me. I nodded along and started commenting.

“I liked the previous track better than this one.”

“I seem to sense a theme in these cuts. Is this a concept album?”

I forget what else I said, but he never answered and soon moved to stand down by the door.

My friends say I’m going to get myself shot. I say if you keep backing off you will sooner or later have your back against a wall or a cliff.

Last but not least, the guys who HAVE headphones but insist on singing along with whatever bullshit they’re listening to.

Dude, you can’t sing and you look like you’re crazy.

I have seen today something uncommon to see during everyday commute.

I take S train shuttle from GrandCentral and TimeSquare and I get into staition from Madison Ave entrance so I always go into first car for that TS bound direction.

You all know that S train is one of those that people never stop running into doors and even if train is about to depart right now. Though I always pay attention to electronic sign that says track number and how many minutes is left before it departs. And it was 1 minute on 3rd track. I didn’t run and just walked into open door #1 of first car. Few second later conductor made announcement that next stop is TimeSquare, Stand clear, doors are closing, bla bla bla and doors began to close and conductor made several attempts as usual because people on other end of train still were hitting doorway.

But in the area of first car is always no people and I saw like few MTA workers in a uniform walked along platform, suddenly one of them decided to get into car, same door I walked in. And door closed completely right in front his face.

Well, I thought, that he is going to take a next one, but train didn’t move. That is very unusual because once doors are closed completely train accelerates in couple seconds.

Another MTA worker also came to the closer door, took some tool or key and inserted into a keyhole near the door but outside of train. Half door opened. That man who rushed into car thanked another worker and ….. here my jaw dropped, he entered into operator cabin and locked door behind him.

He is our driver!!!, - I realized with a smile. But more funny thing that conductor locked out his co-worker train operator outside of train.

If that second man wasn’t there I don’t know how long would they solve this problem because conductor is in the last car, operator wanted to go into first car.

Luckily, everything happened just in 15-20 seconds.

Lol I always love questions like these because born New Yorkers legit can’t answer it. We are so used to the madness that nothing actually sounds insane, and when I read the answers - I’m like “how’s that insane? That’s a standard Tuesday on the A line? Ohh right it’s insane in every other normal place…”

Like, we have the annual underwear day where you basically have trains full of people in just their skivvies. People having sex. People making meals. People reenacting their favorite scenes from movies or plays. Musicians, acrobats, clowns, preachers, singers, politicians, inventors, scuba divers, drag make up artists and all sorts of whacky whimsical characters. It’s sort of just background to us at this point.

Well, when you’re on the subway, your perception of “weird” somehow gets suppressed. Things that would be totally bizarre anyplace else seems like a normal Tuesday when you’re in the subway.

The R train is a long local train that starts deep in Queens, runs through Manhattan, and ends way out in Brooklyn. Because it’s long, and because it’s local, it attracts a lot of panhandlers and performers — especially in bad weather — who can make their pitch quickly and move on to the next car and the next crowd.

There are nights on the R train when it’s like a vaudeville show. First comes the beggar with his tale of woe and rehab. He’s done, moves to the next car, when BAM here’s the solo singer — sometimes with a recorded accompanying track, more often solo. He works his way through the car, leaves, and oh look, Showtime Dancers who usually miraculously manage not to kick anyone! They do their thing, and next up is a Mariachi band (who are usually pretty good, actually). The pass the hat, and a fire-and-brimstone preacher enters. Then an a cappella group. Then a “homeless vet.” Then an awful sax player. Sometimes a balloon animal artist. And on and on.

I don’t think they coordinate; it just happens. All they need is an MC. For $2.75 including transportation, it’s the best entertainment dollar in the city.

A man is playing the saxophone on the downtown 2 express train at 8:00 am rush hour.

He is playing TERRIBLY- which is actually a little unusual by nyc standards- there are A LOT of excellent starving musicians in this city after all..

Anyway- this man is murdering whatever tune he’s playing and everyone on this overcrowded subway is annoyed.

Suddenly he announces: “IF YOU PAY ME..I WILL STOP!”

The nearest person to him is a banker type who immediately hands him a twenty.

The whole car erupts with applause. The sax player pushes through the clapping crowd into the next car where presumably repeats this performance.

Just another morning on the NYC subway.

Credit to my mother for telling me this gem.

As a 68 year old native New Yorker who grew up withoit a car and did not own one until I was 43, there is almost nothing that I have seen on the subway that surprised me, but one incongruity sticks in my memory.

It was a dreary winter’s day and I was headed to the Lower East Side to check on an elderly relative. It was the middle of the day and the subway car was relatively empty

I looked up from the book that I was reading and saw an impeccably and elegantly dressed young man who was reading a Yiddish newspaper, just as neat as the rest of him. It was one of the most conservative religiously oriented papers. I was very intrigued to learn how this man who looked like he would be more at home in an English country house drawing room came to this paper.

My curiosity got the better of me and I violated one of the fundamental subway rules. I went over to the young man and explained my curiosity to him in Yiddish. He answered me and explained that he loved to learn languages and having studied German, he was interested in learning Yiddish. He was on his way to his class at Brooklyn College. I got to my stop and wished him well and he continued on towards Brooklyn.

A collection of bronze sculptures by Tom Otterness at 14th Street/Eight Avenue. I thought that was pretty amazing!

Also when you ride the 6 train in Manhattan, you can see some of the abandoned subway stations!

Not in New York, but in London. We were travelling on the subway (tube) from Heathrow to central London. Long commute then, there is a faster route now.

Anyway, at one stop, a VERY smelly man got on and say next to me. Talk about stench! This was an ingrained, weeks old, living rough stench. I felt embarrassed to move away, for fear of being seen to be rude. After a couple of stops, he exited. But the miasma remained. Then, what should happen, but a very smartly dressed ‘city’ man in a blue pinstriped suit, highly polished shoes, a tie pin and so on, entered. He sat next to me and then stiffened in horror as the stench assailed his nostrils, which flared in disgust. He looked over at me over the top of his rimless glasses, and then his one foot, crossed over the other, stated bobbing up and down. All the while he kept glancing at me. I was going to explain, but then thought “He has no idea who I am or where I am from.” So I left it. I wonder what story he has told people?

Mmm I was going home from work one day and I had missed my stop so I went to take the train on the other side to go back to where I had needed to go. While I was waiting on the platform, there was a woman who had been at the platform before me, she paced around a bit and then eventually, she was out of my line of sight. It wasn’t until the smell of urine hit me that I realized what she had done not too far from me. She had taken her pants off and peed onto the floor of the subway platform. I was mortified and I walked to the other end of the station. It smelled horrible. Even though I kind of knew this happened because of the stench of urine in areas, I had never seen this happen right before my eyes. I wanted to throw up - Dramatic? I know but my brain was still trying to process what had seen and I was very young at the time. But hey, it’s NYC…

I think it must have been the woman with the see-through top. But that was before the day of cellphone cameras, so I’ll post a photo from an ordinary day: