It was another lovely morning aboard the Q train. A mentally ill man appeared in my car when we were going over the bridge. At some point he was talking to himself so intently it seemed as though he was on a cellphone. This always happens when I have a good seat. I was ok until he stood near me and was pursing his lips and clearing his throat in a manner that seemed to signify he was about to spit. He did this several times and at some point I thought something wet eminated . I quickly switched seats. TGIF.