Stand clear of the closing doors

I almost got into a fight today on the subway. Really! Me, the pacifist! But I was coming out of a crowded subway train and a throng of people were pushing their way in, before any of us could make our way out. "Getting out," several of us called, but they didn't stop. I said, "Let the passengers out first," mimicking the standard conductor refrain and pushed my way through the entering crowd, leading with an outstretched hand. One guy growled, "Watch the hand," as he continued to try to force me back into the subway car. I moved past him and said, "Would you rather it be with my fist?" and he did the old barroom swagger of, "You wanna try?" At which, in an adrenalin daze, I walked away.

In my defense, I had been at a cocktail reception where I only had one glass of wine but clearly something that didn't sit well in my stomach. Shrimp? Crab cakes? Rich chocolate dessert? Cheese? I felt so ill getting into the subway that I really thought I might pass out walking down the stairs. On the train I felt better, and once I'd almost come to blows with the Pusher, I made it up to the street and fresh air and felt better.

Not as good as now in my air-conditioned bedroom with a tall glass of water and my new computer.