The Man Who Put on the Necktie While Standing on the 6 Train.
You were a short fellow, Asian, black hair flecked with gray. I’d say you were 45.
You got on the 6 at 42nd Street and illuminated the car with your hot pink shirt. You stood in front of the side doors, in the middle of the floor, and opted not to cling to a pole.
As the train pulled out of Grand Central, you commenced putting on a purple tie with white polka dots. The train bucked and swerved, as it is prone to do, yet you still did not opt for the steely caress of a pole.
That’s because you were busy putting on your tie. The fat part of the tie looped around the skinny part, fat part was guided through the loop, the length was perfect, and you tightened the whole shebang up. Presto.
A perfect Windsor knot.
Just as we pulled into 33rd Street, you buttoned your top button and flipped down your collar, cool as can be. The stop into the station was a rough one, yet you still did not reach for a pole. It was a staggering feat, Purple Necktie–simply riding without holding on would be downright Herculean, while actually executing a Windsor knot in full train motion is hardly the stuff of mortals.
At 28th you stepped off the train, you Real Man of Genius, your cool demeanor at odds with the heroic actions you’d pulled off moments ago.
But we have to ask–pink shirt and purple tie?
Respectfully,
Trainjotting
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