Trains and Trauma

What to do when service is suspended on the train line you need to meet a friend? Take a bus. A bus packed with hot irritable people who couldn't get on the bus of their first choice. I remain calm although concerned about meeting my friend Karen on time at Daily Press #1, Michael's coffee shop in Bed-Stuy  Brooklyn.
We pile into the next bus squeezed in like sardines. OK. I will probably arrive on time now, but suddenly as we creep down Fulton Avenue, shouting breaks out from the back of the bus. Some guy is venting very  loudly, and other riders are imploring him to chill out. This technique backfires, and now he is screaming, cursing, and threatening to kill people. My survival instincts kick in. Being fairly near the front of the bus, I attempt to get off at the next stop. But the woman in front of me is not letting me pass. I tell her I am afraid. She looks sympathetic but says it is too crowded in the front to let me squeeze by her. I am now doing my deep breathing calming exercises. The bus driver passively does nothing. Lots of riders chime in to encourage Mr. Out of Control to get off the bus. On and on  and on it goes.I am no longer concerned about being late. I just want to survive this ride. I have been in NYC less than 6 hours at this point and did not plan a near death bus experience for my first outing. Finally, Mr. Out of Control gets off probably shoved out the door by his surrounding bus mates ( I use the term mates loosely). The bus picks up speed. I arrives shaken but in tact and on time at Daily Press. But where is Karen? Turns out she experienced a similar train snafu in the opposite direction, but without the drama. I give her a ridiculously desperate hug because I am so happy to see a friendly face.  We catch up. All transportation trauma assuaged  by friendship.