Vitaly Umansky Illustration: August 2010

I usually filter weird shit that happens (shame), but this one, I just had to put on paper.

Extreme Violence With Onion Springles

Do you believe in signs? Do you believe that an arbitrary moment in time and space can signify another? If you're like me, you probably don't and never will.

I always promote that New York is one of the safest cities in the world. I have never seen a single crime in seven years I'm in the city. Well, I've seen one today. Seen, and done nothing.

It was two days after my exhibition at the Empire Hotel Rooftop, right across the Lincoln Center. I was on my way to the Bronx Zoo where me and my buddies schedule to meet for some drawing. A group of nine or ten 2nd-graders were riding with their instructor to the Zoo as well. Though it wasn't a short commute I did not draw anything. Though I wanted to. In front of me, four little black boys were standing on their knees, with their feet hanging down from the bench, excitedly looking out the window and discussing what they see. I thought it could be a cute picture to make, very lively, yet I just looked and tried to memorize the scene.

Suddenly, a lady next to me leaned over and mumbled something pointing to the direction of the kids. I smiled and nodded. She repeated again, and directed my attention to a small, sealed container of Springles, onions flavor.

"It looks suspicious" - she said.

"At this size?" - was my dumb response. At the following few stops of silence, I chastised myself for my answer. How could I know? Was I an expert? My only confidence in the everyday routine is not a protection of anything abnormal. And who knew? I started pondering. If yes, these kids, my god! Do I become paranoiac as well, and call 911, or 311, or whatever the hell you dial these days? I lived in Jerusalem all through the 90s'. I know that in these cases fear is a personal choice. So I decided to ignore it, and on the next stop left with the kids and headed towards the Zoo.

In the zoo it was crowded and hot. We met, drew a bit, talked a bit, and then I headed back, because I still had things to do. I sat in the corner of the car of the 5 train in front of two good looking black girls. Didn't pay much attention to who was sitting next to me. It was some Asian kid, perhaps 15 or 16 years old. After a stop or two I remembered those kids looking from the window, lively discussing something, and decided to draw it, maybe even stick a bomb under the seat. And I went into the drawing.

A few stops later I witnessed violence like I haven't witnessed for a long time, now. As I was drawing I saw some sudden movement with the corner of my eye, a schoolboy jumped on the schoolboy sitting next to me. A second. He started beating him. Is that a game? Shit! This is serious! A second. The guy spread his arms wide and aimed four or six good punches to the other guy's head one after another. A second. I jumped away and stood up. The train stopped. The guy was looking at me now. Then he shrugged, and left the train. A second.

"O my god! Are you alright?!" Screamed the girls who were sitting in front of me. I leaned towards the guy who was now bent on the bench with his face down. "Call the cops! Call 911! - one of them yelled - O my god! Hold on, don't close the doors!" The victim lifted his head, blood on his lips, blood dripping off his nose, tears in his eyes. It was just a kid! Just some kid with braces! "O my god! He broke his nose!" The girl kept yelling. after a moment the kid rushed out to the platform. In a minute a conductor came talking on the radio: "Yeah, they've escorted him down, too."

It turned out the kid was texting on his iphone and the guy came to him and said he wanted his phone. So the kid replied, no, it was his phone. That's when the asshole jumped on him. The rest of the trip I was looking into the floor. How shameful. I was sitting right next to the guy and didn't do anything. Well, and what could I really do? At least I wasn't stabbed. He was beating the shit out of this kid with no interruptions. It was 2:30pm in a half-crowded train in the Bronx. I still couldn't believe that by the time I tuned in and realized what's happening the show was over. My view of my surrounding reality have changed, or was at least, shaken a little.

I switched to the R on 59th St. I saw no gangsters and no gangsters to be. In front of me sat two beautiful girls, gleaming Union Square, NYU, life is perfect as always. Except that one of them was holding a small, sealed container of Springles, onions flavor.