Let me first make it clear that in no way do I promote suicide. There are almost always better options. Heck, if we could all live forever and ever in perfect harmony, dancing and singing our way through lives, that would be swell. The world would be vastly overpopulated, but we’d dance and sing our way through that too. Loot bags and high fives for everyone.
With that said, let’s say Joe Suicide decides life is no longer beer and wings and wants to take the big sleep. Is it really necessary to jump in front of a subway and delay my commute to work? It’s bad enough I was out of Nutella this morning, now I’m late for work too.
Look, I know there isn’t always signal trouble or a subway malfunction drawing out my ride on the sardine packed, too hot/too cold, B.O. infested subway car. Truth is, the delays are often due to the subway staff having to hose Joe Suicide’s limbs off the tracks and comfort the now scarred for life subway driver. Look what you did, Joe. That was not very nice. The sudoku only takes so long, what do I do after that?
Weren’t we in agreement there would be loot bags and high fives for everyone?
On top of making people late and scarring a subway operator, the on-site transit custodian needs to drag the pressure washer out of the closet (those things are heavy) and get to work, when he had just, only a second ago, got back to sleep with his favorite dog-eared Victoria’s Secrets catalog resting face down on his lap. He was on his way to a stress free, relaxing day before Joe Suicide decided to spread-eagle into the eastbound train.
Sure, with an unfortunate name like Joe Suicide, you can’t expect much different, but what ever happened to the toaster in the bathtub? It’s classic. More importantly, it’s clean and in no way makes people, besides of course the dude in the bathtub, late for work.
Remember folks, loot bags and high fives for everyone. Then everyone, including Joe Suicide, can live long, happy, punctual lives.
Here are the Toronto numbers for subway suicide between 1998-2007.