I replayed the last few moments in my head. When I arrived at the City Hall station the place was buzzing with bodies: focused business suits seamlessly weaving through crowds of lollygagging tourists, who stopped to watch street performers dance for a large group of children wearing matching summer camp t-shirts. I was running late for dinner with a friend uptown, so upon hearing an idling 6 train at the track, I quickly swiped my card at the turnstile, flew down the stairs and leapt in just as the doors were closing.

At first I silently congratulated myself for catching the train. Then I noticed that I was the only one on board. As the train started moving, I heard the muffled, crackly sound of the car’s speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a deep, male voice announced. “This is a train with no destination. If you are on this train - you should not be.”

I almost peed.