Let me tell you why we're always rushing in NYC: we're five minutes late. All eight million of us. Why? Because we just missed a train. So we hurry to catch the next one, knowing how we JUST missed that other one because of the group of slow moving Frenchmen that wouldn't get out of the way. And we're still five minutes late, so we're rushing2, and suddenly someone's handing me a baton and there's cheering and oh yeah it's Usain Bolt.
Have you ever turned your oven to 120°, crawled inside, and then pooped? It's a cheap way to simulate the subway platforms here in the summer, what with airfare being the way it is these days. Knowing that's what I have to look forward to, should I miss the train, I'm now rushing3. Still subsonic at that point, but not by much.
Sometimes, trash fires spontaneously erupt on the tracks. Sometimes, a carriage driver can't stomach the idea of staring at a horse's ass for 10 hours and making small talk with tourists, so he'll fake a seizure on the way to work. Sometimes, a dispatcher wants the petty satisfaction of pissing off 2000 people for no good reason. These all stop trains. More specifically, these all stop trains that you've waited on for 20 minutes, because you JUST MISSED the one before. Rushing4. Mach 1.2. Ma'am, you really should find a place to finish your phone conversation that isn't the MIDDLE OF THE STEPS TO THE SUBWAY.
This train will be the last southbound train going to my stop. Rushing5. Mach 4. Rocket speeds. I just ran over a baby, but the mom doesn't even care because she knows what'll happen if I don't catch this train.
I just remembered how one time a train got taken out of service because it got held back when people wouldn't let the doors close. Rushing∞. I am super-luminal. As relativity dictates, my mass becomes infinite while time stops completely. I collapse in on myself, forming a singularity that destroys our entire solar system.
This is all your fault, D train.