My Boyfriend’s Sad Bagel Story

What’s worse about this story: that he incurred the wrath of commuters or that he lost his bagel?

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Thought I’d share an update about my morning.  I had to be at work on the early side and was drinking last night.  Stopped in at Bony’s Bagels (yes that’s what it’s really called) for a bagel and iced coffee on my way to the train.  Mr. Bony gave me an everything rather than the onion I ordered, but that’s kind of an occupational hazard in the bageling game.

The 4 train was crowded this morning, and I was carrying my messenger bag, a weekend bag, and my coffee.  It was standing room only, and I was standing directly above the long bench that runs down the side of the car, which was occupied by exhausted looking women from further off parts of Brooklyn.  At first I held my bag and drank my coffee, but when we got to Bowling Green, I placed the bags at my feet, wedged the empty cup between my foot and one of the bags, and dug into my messenger bag for the bagel.

I started eating the bagel, holding the bag as a sort of makeshift plate in my left hand, and the bagel itself in my right.  Unfortunately, this left no hand to hold onto the bar, so I was alternately eating the bagel and using my right wrist to hold onto the bar above.  Things went well for about 3/4 of the first half of the bagel.  Then: disaster struck.

Halfway between Brooklyn Bridge and Union Square, I was holding onto the bar with my wrist (“wristing” the bar, if you will) with the bagel in that hand when all of a sudden the train jerked violently to the left.  This threw me off my feet in the direction behind me.  Unsuspecting, barely awake, and frankly half-hungover, I was in no physical position to deal with this turn of events.  Thus, I stumbled sharply behind me.  Meanwhile, my right hand instictevely [sic] sought out the bar above, which was unfortunate because that hand was also grasping my bagel.  As a result, my fingers sort of pinched down on the bagel stub.  As anyone who has ever eaten a bagel slathered in cream cheese knows, they don’t react well to pinching.  The bottom half of the bagel immediately shot about 5 feet back in the car, soaring above commuter’s heads and presumably dribbling them with cream cheese.  The top half slapped into the lap of the woman seated directly below me, along with a nice helping of cheese.

I turned around to look at the havoc wreaked, and discovered an entire car full of people GLARING at me.  No one laughed.  No one said anything.  Just the steady gaze of unmitigated hatred.

I turned back to the woman, who had been sleeping, and managed to stammer “I’m so, so sorry” and handed her my napkins.  She calmly cleaned herself up, and slapped the remnants of the bagel back into my hand.

Union Square couldn’t arrive soon enough, and when it did, I grabbed all my bags, the bagel, and the coffee cup, and darted off the train, in search of a trash can.

Worst commute of my life.  Don’t eat while you stand on the subway.

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