Well, almost. Today as I was riding the U-bahn into town I was lost in the tunes of my iPod, as I am often wont to do. Suddenly I noticed a slight commotion just across the aisle. When I glanced over, I saw a young teenager shaking a man as if trying to wake him. The fellow did appear to be in deep slumber, save for the fact that his eyes were open--wide open. And vacant as a motel in Topeka in the middle of January.
Now, I don't usually draw hasty conclusions, but I was absolutely and instantly convinced that this fellow had expired sitting right next to me, the twenty-one grams of his soul swirling above my head while I blithely listened to the discordant sounds of Charles Ives.
As I tore off my earphones and glanced to the ceiling to see if I might detect a slight haze or catch the sound of a supernatural cackle, another more conscientious gentleman let the driver know we had a problem on board. Soon enough, the person whom I was sure to be dead roused himself but remained discombobulated. An ambulance was called, and in the meantime it was ascertained that the fellow had just had surgery and had left the hospital a bit too early and without having had anything to eat.
Later on I almost fell down the steps beside the Dom, but that hardly seems relevant.