There I am, sitting on the train, nice and peacefully geeking out with the new issue of Wizard, when I hear two women scream, and the woman to my left jumps out of her seat. I turn left, and there is a middle aged woman lying prostrate on the bench, stiff as a board, her eyes glazed over and wide open.
Well, I can certainly tell you, I was scared shitless.
Three men immediately rushed to her aid. For a bit there, everyone was panicked that she was dead... we couldn't tell if she was breathing, and she was just lying there. Slowly though, her eyes began to blink... but she still couldn't move. The sterotypical scream of "Is there a doctor in here?!" is shouted... of course, this isn't the movies, and there were none.
The train thankfully didn't have too far to go until it stopped, and we pulled into West 4th. The three men administering to the poor woman looked around and screamed for someone to stop the train. I shouted that I would, and as soon as the doors opened, I shoved 2 people out of my way, running down the platform like a maniac screaming on the top of my lungs, "Conductor, STOP THE TRAIN!!!"
My biggest fear at that point? That someone would clothesline me, thinking I was another one of NYC's raving lunatics.
I never really gave much thought as to how much distance it is between the last car of the train and the conductor's position. But, ya know what? When it really comes down to it, it's a pretty long ways. But, I made it just as the woman was beginning to make her closing doors announcements. And of course, in true NYC fashion, she cursed, as if this was intruding on HER plans, but promptly got on the radio and called for medical services.
I ran back to the woman, who thankfully was now sitting up, but looking like a 3-year old lost in Times Square. I told them that the medical staff would be coming soon, and went off on my merry way.