As a veteran MBTA commuter celebrating 3 decades of public transportation bliss, I feel qualified to call myself an expert. I can safely say I have taken every line of both the above and underground filth factories, and I have come out with either an iron clad immune system, or possibly a looming case of typhoid. Time and science will tell.
Tonight was a regular old, run of the mill ride home. All 3 trains arrived on time, with little to no crowding and no unusual characters. I both cherish and despise these rides. Now don’t get me wrong, I prefer a flawlessly timed, smooth sailing commute, but the ridiculous antics I have witnessed over the years have been the source of many stories and laughs, and for those I am grateful.
On the second leg of my commute, the red line, I took a break from the book I was reading when a rather large gentleman dressed in a very expensive looking suit wedged his way in between myself and the woman on the other side of the empty middle seat. I squished over as much as I could to avoid the thigh against thigh friction that was coming in hot in this seating arrangement.
As he tried to arrange himself into his seat, he pulled out a scratch ticket and started feverishly scratching away at his hopeful soon to be fortune. Now, I am a huge fan of scratch tickets, I’ll attack that in another post sometime, but for now, back to him. So I’m side eyeing his ticket not so much to see if he’s winning, but mostly because the scratch off debris is flying off the ticket and on to my lap. I have no business complaining as I have done this to myself billions of times and just wiped it off. However, this was not my own doing and therefore, the ginger rage was brewing.
In another life , or say, this time last year, a more aggressive, easily angered version of myself would have read him the riot act about manners and how to act right in shared spaces. Instead, this aged, refined (medicated) version of myself wiped the dust off my leg and on to his shoe where it belonged. He apologized and I laughed and said “hope you win big buddy”. And I truly did hope he won big, just not in such close proximity to my new pants.
Reflecting on my behavior, which in my opinion was stellar, it occurred to me that I have been all of the different types of the annoying, inconsiderate commuter myself. I’ve had excessive amounts of bags, sat in a seat that really didn’t mean to fit a whole person, and I’ve definitely not given up a seat to someone who may have needed it more. There was even that one time I boarded the train shortly after eating a particularly potent Mexican feast, and well, a crop dusting may, or may not have been left in my path. Stop judging, I was young and dumb! ok so not that young, but I’m only human, and that carne asada taco supreme was a bit more asada than my Irish stomach could handle , ok? Ok?
In closing, I can say with all the certainty in the world that I will post an entry in the near future about an incident that is not so light hearted and my red rage will have gotten the best of me, so this my dear reader is just a mild introduction into my life as a commuter. Stay tuned for the good stuff.
Where Was I Going With This? 