I was waiting for the F train at 14th Street on Friday and noticed a rat between the tracks. He was probably the size of a newborn kitten but comparisons like that don’t matter when you’re talking about rats, I guess. He was still grimy and disease-ridden, splashing around in a mud-puddle amid the discarded batteries and Metrocards next to the third rail. My first thought was, If this rat is here, then the train isn’t close to the station at all. This rat is a professional track-dweller, he knows when its safe to come out and when the train is coming; he can feel it in his rat-feet. But then my second thought was, Maybe all this rat needs is just one makeover episode.