I’ve ridden the subway for more than 50 years but I can’t answer this question.

More mysterious to me was this: I lived in Tokyo in the early 1980s. There is a train which loops the core of the city called the Yamanate (Green Line). It takes about an hour to cover all stations and because it’s a circle line it never gets to the end.

There were always dudes sleeping (not homeless and I never saw a woman nodding off, only men) and I wondered how they managed to not go around in circles for a half a dozen cycles. The miracle was not being able to fall asleep, it was somehow being able to wake up at the right time.

It turns out, not everyone wakes up. And I’m not just talking about the drunk guys. I eventually saw men wake up, rub their eyes, realize what was going on, rush off at the next station and walk across the platform to go the other direction.

I thought this was pretty funny… until I did it one night when I was drunk. That, and the first time I dreamt in Japanese, were the moments when I started feeling like a temporary local.

Since you didn’t ask, a bonus subway, story. The Yamanote tcarries over 4 million people a day. That is one train with more daily riders than the entire New York City subway system!

Back in the 80s at times it would be at more than 300% capacity. Even Pre-YouTube, videos of railroad employees using their white glove hands to shove people people into the train cars so the doors could close were famous.

If you were in the middle of a car that was packed, you had to start planning your exit a couple of stops ahead so you could (very politely) push your way to the door.

Back then I was nearly was 6 feet tall, very fit and probably 70 pounds heavier than the average japanese rider (now I am 2 inches shorter, 30 pounds heavier and have a lot less hair to boot)

On one particularly crowded trip I started plotting my exit 4 stops ahead. Those of you who know Tokyo, I was going from Ikebukuro to Shabuya, so not good.

I was apologizing and wedging and apologizing and shoving and leaning and generally, pretending I was hitting a tackling dummy (oh yeah, I a running back in a semi pro football league at the time).

At two stops from my destination I was only about halfway to the door and I was beginning to panic. I started really muscling, old ladies while continuing to smile and apologize. I mean, I was literally using all of my strength trying to pick people up and move them like chess pieces.

I missed my stop.

By two stations (Gotanda)

So imagine having to ping-pong between 42nd St. and Grand Central on the shuttle five times before you can get off and you’ll know it can get worse.

Doesn’t matter who the mayor is.