I have a cold.
I know, this is not unprecedented in human history. It isn't even a bad cold, at least not yet. But my throat is sore and my nose is runny.
A more together woman would have brought tissues on the train, or maybe a nice lace hanky with her monogram in the corner, but I am not one of those women. So I spent the ride sniffling intermittently, which seemed better than letting the snot run down my face and cling to my chin like baby food.
I guess the woman next to me had enough. She said, "Get a tissue! God!" and stormed off to the magical part of the subway car where everyone brings tissues and little plastic bags for proper disposal.
Dear Subway Lady:
I am sorry I was revolting. I did not think to bring a tissue. If it makes you feel any better, I also forgot my lunch bag. I did not mean to have an unplanned-for cold in your presence. A tissue would have been nice. Maybe you could have offered me one, if you had one. That would have been nice, too.
Life in New York City must be very hard for someone with your delicate sensibilities. You are too good for this world.
Love, Tissue-less Dirty Hooker