Hasidic Dude on a train

Posted by Fred Macdowell on Facebook on June 30, 2016, at 12:02 PM.

My good friend wrote this thing that I thought was too important to just stay buried in a conversation in some corner somewhere. With his permission I post it here. Please consider it carefully, past all the excuses we all have.

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I sit on the commuter train, as I do every morning for the past 10 months. I am one among the hundreds of thousands humans who commute daily from the suburbs to NYC.

But I'm different. I'm Hasidic.

The trains during peak hours are crowded. The window seats get occupied first. When these are all taken, commuters double up and fill the aisle seats. After the last pickup station, the two rows of seats are set like two jaws neatly socketed with teeth. Except for one gap.

How odd it must be to complain about having a double seat. Instead of being crammed butt to butt, I get some breathing space. Who wouldn't want that?

I for one don't. Not when it happens almost every day. Why does it take a no-other-options situation to sit down next to me?

Am I a leper?

Do I smell?

I showered this morning. With shampoo. I put on deoderant. And I wear a clean shirt. I don't look menacing.

Do I?

So why won't you grace me with a rub of your commuting butt against mine and breathe into my nostrils?

You want to avoid me. I am a pariah. I'm a Hasidic dude with those weird side curls.

Doesn't that make you a little xenophobic?

Are you scared I'll bite you? I won't even as much as say hi. This is New York. We ignore each other here.

I'm like everybody else. I carry a backpack emblazoned with the Nike logo. I wear white earphones and pretend to read something on my phone. Sometimes I sip from a coffee paper cup. I won't fart, and I won't force feed you gefilteh fish.

Please, I want to be made as uncomfortable as everybody else.