This is part two of a three-part story. For part one click HERE.
After getting of the A train where I was called a Fat Bitch by another straphanger, The F train arrived and it was fairly packed. It was exactly what you would expect at 11:00pm on a Friday night.
I lived off the 4th Ave – 9th Street stop in Gowanus/Park Slope, and when the train pulled into the station, I exited the train with hundreds of other people. There was a young hipsterish guy who got off the train as well, and I noticed he was staggering. But it was bad. Really bad.
I have never seen anyone that drunk in my life.
He almost ran into me, so I stepped aside to prevent myself from being knocked over. A few seconds later, someone yelled, “NO!”
I turned around to see the train pulling out of the station, and Mr. Hipster falling head first into the moving train. The moving train and his head collided, which knocked him backwards.
As he was falling, his right leg fell in-between two train cars. His body continued towards the platform, with his right leg stretched out behind him, and he smacked the back of his head full force on the cement. It sounded like someone had dropped a bowling ball.
The moving train grabbed his right leg and twisted his knee in a position that no knee should ever be in. His body lie there lifeless while his leg was getting pulled further and further away from him. Every time a door passed, it would smack his lifeless foot and twist his ankle around.
There were only two of us who noticed, and we started banging on the train yelling for the conductor to stop. Someone pulled the emergency brake, and the train slowed to a complete stop.
The guy lay unconscious on the ground with his leg bent backwards, stuck between the train and the platform. Everyone was peering out of the train windows at us.
The woman who had helped me stop the train looked over at me, completely speechless. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911.