This evening I boarded the Orange Line at State Street for my usual trip back home to JP. Immediately I was greeted by a powerful odor, emanating from a guy who was sitting there with what looked like all his worldly belongings. A few stops later, onto the train came another fellow, obviously mentally ill, who spent the trip mumbling and cursing to himself.
Please don't get me wrong: I'm not blaming these poor folks for using the T to have a halfway comfortable place to spend a cold evening. And believe me, having lived in NYC for 12 years, I've seen a lot on a subway.