At the Jay St. Metro Tech station I’ve transferred from a C train to an F; both trains, having arrived at the same time, sit with their doors open to allow passengers to change trains. A woman in my train car, after hesitating, makes a sudden move to switch trains. I watch her rush out of the car, but while crossing the platform she runs into a group; she starts to cut in front of them, hesitates, lets them pass, then darts toward the open doors. They close in front of her face. She throws her hands up in despair. Then, realizing she could still make it back to the F, she pivots and rushes back toward my car. These doors too close in her face. As my train leaves the station I see walking down the platform, shoulders slumped, head shaking, an ironic grin on her face.