A man, Bob Johnson, leans on a cold, concrete pillar, silently waiting for the train to take him to work. He waits as he has waited for the past seven years of his monotonous, somewhat mechanical existence. He glances calmly at his wristwatch; thirty-seven minutes past eight o" clock in the morning. "Damn," he thinks to himself. "Oh well, they"ll have to let me off," he mumbles to himself, "it"s the first time I"ve been late in the seven years I"ve worked there." So, Bob slowly makes his way to the edge of the platform so as to get a good seat on the train.

             Around him, people mill around waiting for the same train Bob waits for. Directly behind him, a fat woman sits on a wooden bench holding her designer label bag in her lap, close to her chest. She is obviously very self-conscious and she glances around nervously. Nearby the fat lady, three African-American guys, aged around 20, dressed in ridiculously oversized clothing, listen to a rap song on a portable stereo. To his left, a businessman and his associate stand underneath a train schedule board discussing some important topic. Near him stands a group of Japanese tourists, looking at a half-folded map, trying to figure out the best route to arrive at their destination. Two of them are in a heated argument, speaking very quickly in Japanese. Bob then catches a glimpse of a crowd of school kids heading towards the platform with their chaperones; they are going on a day-trip to the Natural History Museum.

             While Bob is lost in his silent study of the Human-Being, the advance warning lights lined along the edge of the platform where there is a six foot drop to the train tracks, warning people that the train will arrive in just a few moments. Everybody hears the high-pitched squeal of metal wheels on metal rails, and a sudden rush of air against his face from the fast moving train brings Bob back to his senses.