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Marquel TPVs NYTimes Mass Transportation and Bombs Section correspondent, was whistling in the shower when he read, Iraqi Leader Says ISIS Militants Plotted Against Subways. The Iraqi prime minister, Haider al-Abadi, said Islamic State fighters seized in Iraq had spoken of plots to bomb subways in Europe and the United States. Marquel was so glad to be in New York. Did Isis expect to find a functioning predictable subway in New York? Idiots! Marquel could not stop chuckling imagining Isis trying to actually have a plan, a plan complete with times, dates, places. That’s not how the MTA sees things. Thank God for the MTA!
Marquel first called Mufi who told Marquel that an acquaintance had been in touch with Isis over the subways.
I asked if I could speak to this acquaintance.
“Sure,” said Mufi, “but you’ll have to go in disguise.”
“Why?” I asked. “I thought he might be in disguise, why me?”
“He just insists that everybody be in disguise when discussing these matters. Nobody recognizes anybody else.” Mufi said.
I agreed to the disguise. A black chiffon tube and high heels. I practiced in my apartment and thought I could negotiate a normal room so off I went. We met at the Four Seasons bar, where he recognized me immediately. I was the only one to fall under the bar before I even started drinking.
We went into the pool room and had a small dinner. It was a good choice because the tables were far apart and nobody could overhear. Plus he refused the first table offered just in case somebody had prepared for our arrival.
“So these guys,” I said, trying to be discreet, “What was the difficulty with the subway?”
“I couldn’t believe it. They had a schedule.” He started laughing. “For the New York subway!” He almost choked.
“I’ve heard there is a schedule, but it’s sort of like quantum theory. It might exist and be true but you can never see it in practice.” I said.
“Exactly. They made plans based on it. Even had a run through. That’s when they realized it wouldn’t work. They had five guys who were supposed to all arrive at Grand Central at the same time. At the appointed time, they were all in different boroughs, and one guy ended up in Newark on the Path.”
“That should teach ’em,” I said.
“It didn’t. They tried to simplify it by using less lines. Unfortunately that included the V Line which hasn’t operated in two years. Two guys were stuck in Brooklyn.” He said.
“Was that the end of it?” I asked.
“Oh no. They scrapped all their plans and tried to do it with one guy. They ran that through once, and the guy ended up at Grand Central unable to get into a car. It was rush hour and he didn’t realize that standing back and waiting for a train is the surest way to miss it. He didn’t know how to elbow his way into a rush hour train.” He said.
“Don’t tell me they tried again.” I said.
“Oh yes. This time he got on, went uptown to a station they wouldn’t identify for me, but he made a mistake.” He said.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Some guy looked at him, he looked back. The other guy looked harder. This guy thought the other guy was trying to be friendly, so he looks back with a big dumb ass smile, the other guy stares, our guy smiles more.”
“I was always taught never to look anybody in the eye in the subway,” I offered.
“Too bad nobody told him. The guy comes over and says in stereotypical fashion, ‘you lookin’at me?‘ Our guy says yes, he is, puts out his hand to shake with who he thinks is his new best friend, and the guy grabs it, breaks it, and throws him out of the train at the next stop.”
“These guys aren’t going to make it here,” I said.
“They’re a determined group but they don’t seem to understand how things work here. Right now they’re in jail.”
“No kidding? What’d they do? Arrested as terrorists?” I asked.
“All five of them were at the Union Square Sation. Some other guy jumps the turnstile. Next minute you see five Middle Eastern guys jumping the same turnstile one after another. They thought they’d found the secret. Well, the cops couldn’t take that many in a row so they took them in on a minor charge. But they’re having trouble with identification.”
“I’d think that’s the first thing they solve.” I said.
“They did. They all had passports with phony names and drivers licenses. But they learned them for the flight over. Once here, arrested, they couldn’t remember exactly who was who and they gave a couple of names wrong. Didn’t match their passports so they’re being held. Nobody knows they’re Isis. Yet.” He said.
“Well, that’s New York,” I said. “They say if you can make it here you can make it anywhere. But not the reverse.”
We had some delicious crab, steak, and dessert. A nice wine, too. I felt really safe in New York. Then I tried walking out in my heels, which was when I realized maybe I couldn’t make it here, either.
***
MARQUEL: You Make It Out of MTA- Yo Make It Out of Anywhere
Laughed, and laughed and then laughed a bit more. And we are again at war. We are the morons
Well said
Perfect story
Ditto
Ditto2
happy to see that you changed the picture. it was incomprehensible…good job…Loved your story Marquel…
yeah