Lately, going to class feels more like volunteering for a science experiment. With all the coughs, sneezes and germ-infested bodily-fluids flying through the Petri dish we call a classroom, it was only time before these human-size bacteria would affect me too.

As a result, I spent the last few days sleeping, shivering, vomiting and sleeping some more. In doing so, I became a lot friendlier with the television channel lineup.

I made sure to avoid shows that would only cause more puking. As much as everything about “The Iron Chef” makes me laugh, there is only so much badly translated ingredient mixing a sick person can digest.

Then there is the ultimate nausea-inducing thing you must avoid: live surgery shows on The Discovery Channel. The last thing I wanted to see was a random man’s brain being tossed around like spaghetti.

So I happily settled on a back-to-back showing of Risky Business. This was good: Tom Cruise before his insanity and man boobs developed. The movie was just as I remembered seeing it a dozen times before until the famous subway scene kicked in. Before, when Tom Cruise and Rebecca De Mornay board a late night subway train and it empties out so they can go at it with “In the Air Tonight” playing in the background, I thought, gee, what a classic ’80s movie.

This time around, however, I thought how ridiculous and unsanitary this is. A high school boy named Joel brings his favorite prostitute from his house, which he turned into a brothel for just one weekend, onto the dark train for a midnight rendezvous. In the middle of the night, a public transportation vehicle suddenly empties and runs on the drumbeats of a popular Genesis song rather than electricity.

The best thing that happened to me on the T this week is that I stepped in a piece of gum that is the same light blue color as my sneakers, blending into the sides like sugary camouflage.

So Risky Business got me thinking about other subway scenes that I wish could come true.

Let’s take Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, for instance. I don’t know about you, but I think turtles are really cute. I’ve always wanted one for a pet. Add color-coordinated bandanas, the ability to fight petty criminals and a constant smell of pizza coming from their subterranean lair and you’ve got yourself the cult classic that now goes by TMNT.

Instead of the smells of urine, wet fur and pleather coming from our subway stations, I want to smell the aroma of pizza coming from the turtles’ underground house. We wouldn’t have to listen to the train’s screech or the awful harmonica player while waiting for a ride; we could hear the turtles blasting their 1990 album “Coming Out of Their Shells.” I would never be afraid to go somewhere at night, either, knowing they were there to protect me. I mean, who wouldn’t want to see a big turtle dressed up like a ninja in the subway?

In the 1978 Superman, Lex Luther, the hero’s nemesis, makes his high-tech hideout underneath a transit system. I know while on the T, we’ve driven over lots of papers and garbage before. And of course a pigeon or two. But a secret underground technological evil place, home to the man who keeps Superman on his toes? Not that I’m aware of. The coolest experience I’ve had while riding above anything on the T is guessing the number of beer cans visible in the Charles River when I cross over it on the Red Line.

In Saturday Night Fever, John Travolta wears a lot of white polyester. He wiggles and jiggles in funny outfits, which he still can’t live down today. At the end of the movie, though, his character takes an all-night ride on the subway to contemplate his life. He realizes in order to live a more meaningful life, he must walk away from his childhood and start over.

First of all, I can’t take someone wearing white polyester seriously. Second, when I’m on the subway, I just hope that the smelly person beside me will get off at the next stop so I can breathe through my nose again. That’s about how reflective I get there.

In Ghost, Patrick Swayze encounters a “subway ghost” who haunts some of the trains as a result of being pushed onto the tracks and being killed years ago. Although some people act like ghosts on the T, they’re probably just acting strange so that you don’t make conversation from them. Our trains don’t stall because a ghost is stopping them: They don’t work because they’re broken.

Mayor Thomas Menino wants to hire more transit police to cut back on crime on the T. I don’t know, Mr. Mayor — I hear big, giant turtles work just fine.

Megan Murphy, a sophomore in the School of Education, is a columnist for The Daily Free Press. She can be reached at [email protected]