Admitting A Problem Is Not Just The First Step

By Author: Aaron Spetner
Total Articles: 14
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Psychologists say that admitting a problem is the first step. Read why this may not be true in New York.
As all great personalities sometimes do in private, I would like to admit a problem. The problem is that most people on this planet (besides me and possibly some other folks whom I am fond of) are thoroughly screwed up. I know this because during my daily commute to and from work, I often kill time by observing other passengers on the train. The preliminary conclusion to my study is that there are approximately eight hundred thousand different categories of people in New York. In an effort to make the public aware of these seemingly detrimental genetic mutations, I would like to discuss some of these categories and their negative characteristics. The most noticeable of these individuals are those who feel that they are distinguished public speakers and the subway car is their pulpit. These people start off by announcing their current financial and housing situation, sometimes even informing us of their lifetime employment history. Next, we will sometimes hear them describe what is almost certainly private doctor-patient ...
... medical information. After this they ask us for donations and hold out a bag for us to place money or spew vomit into. They usually end off by wishing us a blessing or cursing us for being stingy rich ingrates. Of all of the strange creatures on the New York City transit system, these solicitors are by far the most noticeable, and this is no coincidence. They are produced in labs in Argentina, and in a highly selective screening process, only the lowest, most tainted specimens are selected for advancement to the Chernobyl training facility (a subterranean instructional workshop, by chance located directly beneath the famed, allegedly dormant Chernobyl Power Plant). During a grueling seven-month training period, these varmints are educated in shower avoidance and unpleasant odors. They are instructed in the art of persistence and annoyance. They are also taught how to keep themselves constantly on the verge of drunkenness. Once they finish their course, they are then transported via intricate tunneling structures to the New York City Sewer System. After a six-week incubation phase, they are individually migrated to the subway system, which will be their home for basically the rest of their existence. Although, as previously mentioned, this panhandling clan is the most conspicuous species on the trains, several years ago, the New York City Department of Transit Annoyance became sensitive to the need for another infuriating variety of individuals to plaster the subway with. The only trouble was, the city at that time lacked the funds to implement high quality training similar to that of the transit solicitors. Therefore, Edward Koch, the New York City Mayor at the time, grabbed several bearded individuals at random, subjected them to an hour of being hit on the head with plutonium mallets, and handed them saxophones. They were then escorted to subway stations and have been there ever since. The introduction of these people, who can make any music sound like burning industrial waste, opened the door for many other strange individuals. The subway became a system full of diversity when it comes to weirdness. New York City officials were ecstatic. This was the first time that the word ecstatic had ever been used in the same sentence as New York City. Over the years since these developments, the New York Subway System has degenerated not only to a cesspool filled with vile, crazed madmen, but it has reached one of the lowest qualifications possible for a situated location. That's right. According to some, the New York City Subway is an actual tourist attraction. For those of you who have never been outdoors, let me explain what tourists are. Tourists are the most primitive class of the human species. They are inquisitive, excitable, always smiling, and usually have crying children. They are more disgusting than the subway solicitors and more annoying than the saxophone players. They wear strange clothes and take pictures of us normal people, as if we were the ones who were more noticeable than an elephant trying to hide inside of a matchbox. I apologize if I seem a bit prejudiced towards tourists, but I am still a bit raw from recent tourist exposure. Out of boredom Monday night, a friend and I decided to go to the top of the Empire State Building in Manhattan. After waiting about thirty minutes in a line filled with overly excited tourists, we finally crammed into a tourist-packed elevator for a ride to the tourist-crowded observation deck. We went outside to get a better view, only to be hounded by tourists who felt no shame in asking that we take their picture for them! Not only that, but they spoke with British accents! You have no idea how hard it is to resist the urge to finally find out what happens when a camera hits the ground from a 1250-foot drop. Although I think I will be all right one day, I will be forever scarred from this ordeal. I can still hear their high-pitched British voices echoing in my head. So there you have it. I, unlike most great individuals, have admitted a problem. Now, let's see you do the same. No, don't tell it to me - go announce it in public on a New York Subway Car. About the Author Aaron currently works as a software/web developer and writes in his free time. He also runs a growing web-based discussion forum at http://www.chitchatforums.com. His personal work is on display at http://www.spetnik.com.