As I’ve written before, only trouble walks between cars.
This time, it happened to be one of the new Series 5000 prototype rail cars on a trial run on the Red Line. It was rush hour and the train was packed with people.
A middle-aged guy came hustling through the door at the end of the car. He took a seat that had just been vacated. I looked at him and saw that his zipper was down on his pants. Was he urinating between the cars, I wondered? He nonchalantly pulled up his zipper.
He waited till the car emptied at Loyola, and then lit up a cigarette. I was at the other end of the car, but smelled it right away. It’s really an unmistakable odor.
I yelled at him to put out the smoke. He said no. So I walked over and pressed the call button. I was about 10 feet from him at this point. As soon as I pressed it he protested: “OK OK, I’m sorry. I’ll put it out.” And he did.
When the operator answered, I told him a guy was smoking in the car — but that he had put it out.
I got off at the next stop. He remained, glaring at me.