Commuter diary #1...

Every weekday I spend an hour taking a train to work, and generally another hour taking the train home from work. As a socially developed adult, I'm pretty good at amusing myself during that time. I read, I listen to podcasts, I work etc. But sometimes, some freak of a commuter catches my eye or ear (not literally, in case you're worried). So, I thought I'd start chronicling the commuter experience from time to time.

Today's entry: people who shouldn't be allowed outside.

I took the express train tonight, so it was a bit more crowded than my usual train. Across the aisle was a guy taking a 'nap.' I say nap, when really, it was more like a full-body, all out, sprawling sleep. He first caught my eye as his head lolled away from his seat and more into the mid-air of the aisle (mouth open, I might add). And after watching his head bounce and bob outside his dance space, I noticed his limbs. They were splayed everywhere. Legs were fully outstretched and forcing his quad seat mates to curl away from him. His arms flopped at his side as though not his own. It was a bit much really. And then, he woke up. And after wiping away the drool he picked up his blackberry and made a phone call. Now, if there's one thing that gets under my skin on the train it's people talking loudly on their phones. I'm a firm believer that we can all go without talking on the phone for an hour and survive. I'm also a firm believer in privacy. I want my life to be private. But also want your life to be private. I don't need to hear you fighting with your kids or hear about your colonoscopy. But I digress. Mr. Spreader called what I'm guessing was his partner and I heard him say "what station?" Then he yelled "WHAT STATION?!" Apparently, his partner was holding a can at the end of a long piece of string and was having a hard time hearing. But the fun didn't end there. Ten minutes later, with fewer passengers aboard and thus fewer people to muffle his noise, he called again, this time on speakerphone. Who the hell uses speakerphone on a commuter train?! Again, he was yelling about which bloody station to get off at. Now, maybe I'm just a keen organizer, but the destination is generally something I like to determine before I'm even on the train. I get on the train at one station in the morning, and return to that station at night. But that's just me. Evidently, Mr. Spreader likes to live on the edge. It was as he was yelling on speakerphone that I noticed his shoes - black loafers... untied. Now, when a grown man can't tie his shoes for work, well, he's just given up. He might as well being wearing sweatpants. I'd already noticed his wrinkled clothing, but assumed it was the result of his full contact nap earlier in the trip. Once I saw the shoes, I thought, "there are just some people to whom the rest of us should not be subjected." And if you're one of the most annoying and completely oblivious people on the planet, you fit into that category.