Today, when your subway comes to an unexplained stop in between stations a pregnant woman on your car will go into labor. She'll shout that someone needs to deliver her baby for her, and everyone on the car will look at you because you'll be wearing surgical scrubs. You aren't a doctor. You're just the keyboardist in a Prince and the Revolution cover band called Darling Nikki. You'll explain that the surgical scrubs actually cost you a lot of money and you might not be able to afford to replace them if you get placenta all over them, but everyone will promise to chip in to buy you new scrubs.
'We'll all just feel better if the guy doing the delivery is at least dressed like a doctor,' one of the passengers will say.
The pregnant woman will howl at a contraction and you'll realize that there's no time to argue. 'Let's go crazy,' you'll say before you get down on the floor and reach in between the woman's legs to pull her soaking wet panties down from underneath her skirt.
Tell the woman to breathe a bunch of times, then tell her to push. Her vagina will get wider and wider and it will even tear a little bit. When the baby's head starts to poke out of the woman's vagina, place your fingers around it and pull very gently. Even though you don't know the woman, it's okay if you accidentally touch her on the vagina a little. Everyone will know by how much you argued about having to help deliver the baby that you're not some pervert who only gets turned on by vaginas that have babies coming out of them. She knew when she got pregnant that one day someone she doesn't know might have watch her vagina get really big and might have to touch it even. She never thought a whole subway car full of people would get to see it, but she knew there was a very small possibility. Or at least an elevator full of people.
Anyway, the baby will eventually come out, followed by all this other terrifying stuff and it will look like a massacre happened. You'll all take a vote on what to do with the umbilical cord and you'll decide not to do anything about it because the only knives that are on the train will belong to some teenage gang members and they won't be able to remember if they washed the blades after their last rumble.
Once the baby is wrapped up in newspapers, you'll remind everyone that they'd better chip in to buy you some new scrubs.
'These were twenty one dollars before tax,' you'll say. At first everyone will balk, hoping the guy with the briefcase will just give you the full twenty-something. But he'll complain about an ex-wife and a daughter in college, so the others will all chip in and give you around eighteen dollars, which isn't bad. The mother will ask you your name so that she can name her son after you. Tell her your name is Joe, even though it's not. You don't want some kid who was born on a subway to be your namesake, do you? Alternatively, you could tell her your name is Adolf which would be funny if she goes for it.
Happy Deliver A Baby On The Subway Day!
