by Donny Haris

Created on: November 25, 2008

He had a nosebleed, which was more a problem than it was an inconvenience.

Ordinarily, a nosebleed would only be a spot of bother; not much to be reckoned with at all. However, it should be noted that the ease of dealing with one relies heavily on location. The reason his nosebleed was a problem rather than a nuisance was because he was on a crowded subway.

There are many ways to deal with a nosebleed. A quick sleeve to the problem region would suffice, if one were to either sacrifice their shirt for the cause or possess a firm or ignorant trust in their laundry detergent. It turned out that he had chosen to wear a white shirt that day. It was his only white shirt. With a red shirt there may have been hope but white was right out. So it goes.

Dealing with a nosebleed at home is quite simple. Any paper towel, cloth or soft substitute thereof would do the trick. Maybe even toilet paper, if all else failed. Often such products were in ready supply. None would be more than twenty seconds away so there would be no issue, even if he was in the basement.

The subway, in contrast, is no place for a nosebleed. There were no kindly towel holders. There was an abundance of oddly proportioned strangers with sneezing pets; falsely ambitious law students and falsely ambitious prostitutes. Not one seemed the sort to dig about in their pockets if asked for a tissue. They looked at him like he was a freak. Why would anyone get a nosebleed on the subway? They thought this of him, of course. Doesn't he know how incredibly inconvenient it is? They were buggers, the lot of them.

The foolish part was that he had blown his nose and thoughtlessly thrown away the used tissue only a moment before boarding the subway. If only he had waited. But there was no sense in pining over this. Hindsight does that sometimes. He would have shaken his head to clear it, but one should not shake their head when suffering a bleeding nose.

The train pulled to a stop not a moment too soon. He made a move for the exit.

He walked out onto the platform. The train made the noise trains make when the doors are about to close. Then a moment later, it was gone. He made for the nearest bathroom. A busker was strumming chords idly against the grungy subway station wall. They made eye contact for a second.

"You have a nosebleed," the busker said, pointing.

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