Valentine's Day is for Lovers and Drunks

Normally, when you think of the days that are likely to bring out the highest concentration of drunks and crazies on the subway, you think of Halloween and New Year's. You probably don't think of Valentine's Day, but based on this year's experience, you really should. There were a lot of things that happened--it was pretty much a continuous stream of insanity--but I'll just focus on one particular incident.
The scene: the uptown A-train, starting at 14th St. The time: 9:30 pm. The day: Valentine's Day.
I boarded the rearmost car, which was already crowded. Right beside the door was a man slouched across two seats, clearly intoxicated, and shouting about Jesus to everyone else on the train. He told us all that he had been saved, but I'm not sure that he was the best spokesman, given his current condition. He was hollering and cursing, (mis)quoting biblical passages, and talking about God's plan for us all. Finally, another man who had gotten on at 14th and who was positioned about half a car away, starting shouting back at him. "I used to be like you," he said. "Slumped over in my seat, harassing other people. But then I found Allah and I cleaned up my act. You have to READ, you have to LEARN. Get yourself together!"
This, clearly, was not what the first man wanted to hear. They started shouting back and forth at each other, calling each other's religions into question, each demanding that the other one read the bible/koran. The first man, who had already been unable to form a sentence without cursing, started hollering out profanities, to which the second man kept interjecting with, "You gotta respect the CHILDREN! You gotta respect the WOMEN!" Several mothers on the train tried to engage their children in fierce conversation so as to distract them from what was going on, but really, it was impossible to hear anything else.
Finally, somewhere along the long express run between 59th and 125th, the second man realized that not only wasn't he teaching the first one anything, but that he was in fact riling him up further, and he slipped through the crowd to end the ever-more-heated religious wars. Unfortunately, in the process of repositioning himself, he ended up right beside me.
"I'm really sorry about that," he said to me. "I hope that you're enjoying your Valentine's Day." I mumbled something non-commital about it always being interesting. "Yeah, I used to be like that," he repeated. Then he switched gears. "I really like your coat," he said. "I've been wanting to tell you that since I saw you on the platform. Sometimes it's hard to give people a compliment in this city, though, because people think that you're flirting with them. So what's your name? Are you heading home or going out?" Good thing he wasn't flirting with me. (Although what could have been more romantic than awkward conversation over the background noise of some guy still shouting about how he'd been saved?)
Finally, after inviting me to his Tai Chi demonstration sometime in May in Central Park (really?), he got off at 145th St.
I am staying home next year on February 14. Or going out and taking a video camera with me.