Contra Costa Times, Walnut Creek, Calif., Tony Hicks column: Tony Hicks: BART at night like a trip to the circus

Now I know why they call them STRANGErs.

I'm not talking about the buttoned-up commute crowd -- they're no fun. No, BART is at its best after sundown.

The action starts as soon as you enter the station -- no matter the city. I've found some of the most fascinating people hanging around BART ticket machines, talking to themselves, offering me unfamiliar food, asking if I'm a witch "... .

Underutilized talent

Sunday nights seems to be especially weird. I hopped a train in Concord last Sunday, but not before watching a woman in her mid-30s stand on the platform having a spitting competition. With herself. It was fascinating and revolting all at the same time. The latter because, well, spitting is disgusting, especially from an otherwise normal-looking woman. The former because she could spit really, really far. It was like watching an NFL punter. If only she could harness her powers for good "... .

Once on board, I headed for a neutral corner where I could scope out the rest of the train, which was pretty empty on a Sunday night. And, wouldn't you know it, someone gets on and feels compelled to sit in the same row, plopping down across the aisle.

Then

she began coughing the cough of the damned.

This woman was to coughing what that last woman was to spitting -- so good at it, I almost admired her. Then she got on her phone and started arguing with someone about whether or not she was actually on BART. What made it even more incredible was how she was coughing and arguing at the same time. I realized someone has finally perfected cough-talking. For the first time, I wished I'd paid for that phone upgrade so I could shoot video. The world needed to see this.

Run and hide?

Then I started getting a little squeamish. She didn't sound good. How far do swine flu germs fly? If I got up and moved, would she follow me? Would it be rude to pull my shirt over my face?

The decision was put to rest as someone got on at the next station and sat behind her, much closer than me. I'd wait until he fell over unconscious.

We arrived at my transfer station and I found myself on the next train, in between some clean-cut college kids and women decked-out in KISS make-up. The unblinking, straight-faced college kids stared me down until I realized they were undercover Ninja infiltrators. Seriously. I decided to stay cool -- making a fuss would just get someone killed with throwing stars, and no one wanted that. Especially me.

Thankfully I arrived at my destination and life returned to normal. Which is really saying something, considering I'd arrived at a KISS show. Old men in make-up and tight pants spitting blood and fire have nothing on the good riders of BART.

Reach Tony Hicks at thicks@bayareanewsgroup.com. Read his blog, "Insert Foot," at www.ibabuzz.com/insertfoot.

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