This dude was passed out on my train last night. He was gone! The amazing thing, though, was, that right before his stop (which also happened to be mine), he raised his head, opened his eyes, saw which station it was, passed out again for one more stop, and then popped up and exited the train with me. He tottered into a building a few doors down from mine to continue his night’s rest.
In high school, on the hour-and-a-half trip (each way!) I had to make from deepest Brooklyn to Spanish Harlem each day, I perfected that move; never failing (well, almost never) being able to awake from deep slumber right before 125th Street. But I never did it when I was drunk.
Kudos, giant yuppie man!