After a party one night, I was riding then train home with two friends. Completely unaware of the perilous situation we were in, we conversed in a lively manner about college days, boys, various goings on of the night, and the like, as any group of young ladies might do on a late-night One train. But upon arriving at 116th St, my friends dismounted, leaving me all by my lonesome.
Well, not literally, of course; there were a few other people on the train. I suddenly noticed I was being stared at by the woman across from me, who had a horrified expression on her face. Once she saw that she had my attention, she blurted out, "Were you with those two ALL NIGHT?"
I wasn't sure quite how to respond. Were my friends really that irritating? "Um, yes," I said. "Why?"
"That woman's tag was totally hanging out."
Again, I was at an utter loss for an answer. "Oh," I said somberly. "I didn't even notice."
"Well, it was. It was hanging all the way out."
At that moment I realized not only that I was being subtly accused of an utterly inconsequential crime, but also that this woman was completely insane.
But, as soon as I had stepped off the train, after bursting into hysterical laughter, I called my friend to let her know that her tag was hanging out. I believe she tucked it in. Another small miracle on The One train.
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