I have a confession to make.
I secretly don't hate getting fallen asleep on while riding the subway.
If it's a homeless person covered in worms and smelling of trash, that would bug me, but I would never sit next to a homeless person covered in worms and smelling of trash, so I will never be fallen asleep on by one.
I'm talking normal, unthreatening, relatively fragrant people who have just gotten a tad drowsy on their travels and have nodded off. This is, above all else, highly entertaining.
Last night on the way home, I was feeling a bit deflated from a low-energy audience at Blue Man, and had also forgotten my book, so my space-stare probably looked a little sad. As the express train pulled out of 14th street, a dude my age in a puffy jacket and sideways trucker hat started to slump forward. As the train gathered speed, the guy started to tip onto my right arm. I nudged him, he gave a little snnnzrk! and immediately fell back asleep. The woman standing in front of me giggled and we made eye contact. Seconds later, the guy was up against my arm again, and this time my nudging was doing no good.
I started to audibly giggle, and several other standers turned around to see why. Three other women were now smiling at me in that sympathetic way that's reserved specifically for situations like these, or for when you're getting hit on by a mariachi band.
When the train was one stop away from mine, the guy was sort of making me uncomfortable, despite the close watch from the other passengers. I pulled my arm in a few inches, then threw it. Sort of the close-quarters version of shaking sand off your beach blanket. I think I even said "woo!" The guy suddenly snapped wide awake and stared at me.
"Hi!" I said cheerfully. The onlookers laughed.
"Hi," he said matter-of-factly, with little shame.
The train stopped. I stood up and said, "bye now!" and left.
I hope he had a nap later, or a coffee.