Unsafe New York: Part Forty

WALKING DOWN THE STAIRS TO THE TRAIN OR I'VE BEEN ISADORA DUNCANED!
It's been a long day and I got done so much! I've been to the camera stores, checked out Pearl Paint, ate pizza, checked out cute men, etc, etc. As I was going down the stairs of the F train on 23rd street, I suddenly realized I was feeling dizzy and could not breathe! I continued walking, attributing that to tiredness when I suddenly realized I was being...chocked! I briefly looked around and saw that someone had a hold of my scarf. At first I thought it was someone I knew but decided to walk by and not deal with another person for the day. I continued descending down the stairs, and realized, with horror that the chocking has now intensified! I panicked and my body reacted in a self-preservation. I grabbed onto my neck and felt the sharp, cutting pain of my scarf against it, scarf soft but when stretched out so thin it was becoming like a rope! I turned around again. I saw in the corner of my eye some guy holding an edge of my scarf. I could dictinctly recall the first pull and his hand, strangely twisted with a scarf in it. As the pain and suffocation increased, I've realized that the guy was walking away, with my scarf, I grabbed onto the scarf and pulled. I had to pull real hard and run up the stairs to free myself. I run up the stairs and saw some young, corporate-executive guy catching his breath. He was looking around himself. He looked scared. Real scared. Like he did something he should not have done. I saw him let go of my scarf seconds before. I run up to him and breathless (the so recent realization of a tragedy that could have befallen me, still hovered over me): Sir, you got caught in my scarf and almost chocked me. The guy looked at me and pulled away. There was horror written on his face. He was pale. He said to me: what, what? Then he started to quickly walk away. He was breathing heavily, like a man who just had an encounter with something very scary and something he at the same time welcomed. He looked at me with strange empty eyes. He gave a chuckle: oh, really? I continued after him, unable to believe what just happened, acting by intertia, desiring some security I reacted in expressions: sir, you have to walk slower, then perhaps, you may not get caught in scarfs and endanger the lives of other people! The guy was walking away and was smilling with a strange smile. He turned around and said: fuck you, bitch. He looked around. No one said anything. Everyone was too busy running around and running home and God knows where else they were all running. He looked satisfied. He placed his hands in the pockets and was continuing to walk away with a smirk. He turned around again and looked at me, coldly. I rubbed my neck. What just has happened? Does this mean that because of his hurry people like me now can't follow a fashion that is harmless and pleasing to them and must wrap their scarves around and pin them with pins as well? Why nobody helped me? I saw about three people behind me when the incident happened, and I, panicking was holding onto my throat and trying to have myself breath! Why didn't anyone grab my scarf and let me free? Why didn't people tell me that there was a meter of green, fluorescent cloth extending at the level of my neck, all the way across the staircase, to someone on top of the staircase?
Why?
Why not?