So today I went on the subway to go to the city and get my PO Box mail. On the return trip I got on the subway and walked over to a 'two seater'. On one of the seats was a hypodermic needle with a protecto thing on the needle part so it wasn't all exposed or whatever. I considered moving away and getting another seat but all the other empty seats had someone sitting in the seat next to it. And I made the decision to sit next to the needle instead of another person.
I mean after all it's just a needle. What's it gonna do? Fly up and stab me in the eye? It's got the protecto thing on it! But I looked at it and wondered how it got there. Sloppy diabetic? Addict who shot up recently right where I was sitting? Both didn't seem to make sense. I mean... who shoots up in a subway car? All moving and jostily and public. After a bit I ignored it and started reading a book someone had sent to my PO Box called 'Man Overboard' (thanks so much by the way).
After a few stops the subway started to fill up and a woman walked over to sit down next to me on needle seat. She looked at the needle then looked at me. I looked at her like, 'don't look at me... it ain't my needle....' But then I realized she wanted me to move the needle so she could sit down. I looked at the needle and totally didn't want to touch it. Not only because of disease or whatever but because somehow me touching it makes me responsible for it. Let's say I brush it off the seat and onto the floor. Not only am I the guy in the subway car who just threw a hypodermic onto the floor in front of everyone- but now if someone walks onto the subway barefoot (farfetched i know) and somehow steps on it and gets jabbed in the foot. That would be my fault. Or some little kid comes over and picks it up and decides to play 'stab' or whatever. My fault. Because my touching it set off the chain of events.
Meanwhile all this thinking didn't get me away from the fact that some lady was sitting there waiting to sit down. I was peer pressured into taking my bookmark and flicking the needle on the floor. Then using it again to flick it under the seat. And then I threw my bookmark under the seat after it. And she sat down.
I just hope that some kid doesn't go all crawling around under the seat and find himself a new toy. Even though I'll never know I'll still feel responsible for that even though there's nothing to feel responsible for because that will never happen... right?