Plastic Bags and Plastic Seats: An Anecdote provided to you by the MTA.

Taking the Train the other day, I couldn't help but focus my attention on an oddly shaped plastic bag peaking out timidly from beneath the bench of the 6 train. The bag was normal enough, but for some reason all of my fellow riders, like myself, couldn't help but stare at it. I waited patiently for the woman closest to it to pick up the bag and look inside. No movements, however, we made on her part. Finally, after two or three stops of anticipation, the seeming former member of a subway Doo-Woop group came slamming through the doors of the train to march down the aisle. I noticed him notice the plastic bag, and to my delight, he bent down to analyze its contents. All eyes of the train were upon him as his wrinkled nose of disappointment assured the riders that we had been wrong all along—there was absolutely nothing special about that damn bag. But at least we got some closure. Thanks, Mr. Subway Doo-Wop Man.