I don’t really care for public transportation. If I had my
way I’d drive in an SUV to work every day while spraying Glade with its CFCs
out the window, just because I can. I’m one of those people.
Usually I can grin and bear the train to work every day, but
in the past few months, probably due to Chicago’s 25 hours of darkness a day,
cold weather, and even colder weather, I’ve become an intolerable humbug on the
train. And the bus. And the metra (whatever the hell that is).
A straight up rant wouldn’t particularly make me feel
better, as there are so many particular things that I loathe, it’s best to
reduce them to the cast of characters that make me want to jump from the
platform into the tracks.
The Hero/The Martyr
The Hero and The Martyr do the same obnoxious thing, just at
different speeds. You’ll be behind them moving up the escalator or stairs.
Everything is going normally – one step is taken at a time. That is until you
get to the top. At this point they feel the need to completely shut down. Stop
moving. Stop. Completely. And make you and everyone behind you crash into them.
This is often punctuated by a dirty look from the Hero/Martyr as they think
they should be rewarded for climbing an entire staircase/riding an entire
escalator all by themselves.
The need for two classes is due to the speed of the ascent.
The martyr is usually a woman in her mid to late 40s. She wears furs and
lumbers up the stairs, her purse splayed to the side so it’s taking up just
enough space not for you to not be able to go around her. Why a woman in fur is
not taking a cab is beyond comprehension, but she is and she is making everyone
miserable. When she gets to the top, she waits until she is exactly ½ a step
off the stairs before she bends over and starts panting.
“I did it! I made it! This is just… can you believe I came
all that way? I just need – I couldn’t possible take another step – not even to
the side to get out of your way, because I did it. I climbed these stairs. See
my plight! My struggles! Look what I have done, world!”
The Hero has the exact same problem, although, it is even
more annoying because the Hero, gazelle-like, leaps up the stairs, only to come
to a complete stop at the top. It’s as if the hero has changed into his
spandex, superman suit and sprinted to the scene of the crime, only to discover
that the cops and fire department have it under control. This entire
realization HAS to occur with only ½ step from climbing the top stair;
otherwise….??!! Many a time have I been running to catch a train behind a
young, professional twenty-something, only to crash into their back when they
stop, stone-cold in the middle of the stairs.
Train Freezes
Train Freezes are similar to Hero/Martyrs, only their idiocy
occurs on the train rather than at the top of the stairs. These people,
regardless of how many people follow them onto the train, completely stop.
Moving. Upon. Entry. To . the. Car.
Cease.
It’s as if their legs lock and they can’t do anything about
it. This always creates a weird shuffling, bumping and ramming of people as
they try to fit the extra 4500 people behind them onto the train car.
My favorite thing about Train Freezes is that 95% of the
time as you ram them trying to get further into the train, they look at you
like it’s YOUR fault.
“Gosh, I’m just trying to commute home and this JERK runs
into me! Can you believe it?”
YES! Yes, I can because your legs froze on getting on the
car and we had to figure out how to get everyone else on!
A nice subset of the Train Freezes are the Panic! At the
Discos, these people don’t stop because they are frozen, but rather because the
sudden realization that they are on a train is paralyzying to them. Their
complete halt of momentum is punctuated by frantic head turns trying to figure
which of the 60 empty seats and endless empty aisles that they will take up.
It’s hard! It’s hard to figure out which way to walk. It’s a right and a left.
What if you choose left…and you should have chose right?! The CHAOS! The
AGONY!
Interior Character: I’m Responsible and Helpful!
Exterior Character: The Jagoff
This person is probably the kid that ran for class president
in high school and had to settle for student council or was beat completely and
ran for secretary of the FFA. They have a commanding presence and great
bluster, but everyone else realizes that they are just commutertarded.
The scene is usually
rush hour. The train is plowing down the track toward one of the main stations
downtown. If you have ever commuted in Chicago – even once – on one of the
lines, you can assume which these are, because EVERYONE gets off the train.
Many mornings the brown and red lines are so packed that you can’t move. If the
train even sways slightly, you knock into people, or, in worst-case scenarios,
are so packed in that you don’t move at all.
With this as the scene, imagine a person, at the complete
back of the train, who picks up their suitcase and yells to everyone:
“Coming out!”
You are about two minutes from arriving at the station, the
train is so packed that in order for this person to squeeze out, you would have
to all bump, shove, topple, and mash into the seated people and the standing
people: toes are stepped on, suitcases crushed, and bruises given.
There is no reason for this.
In two minutes the train will have stopped and the all the
cars will empty anyway. But, this person, in their heads thinking, “Ah ha! I’m
such a good citizen! I have made everyone aware I’m leaving so that when I
leave they will know and have time to move out of the way for me to get to the
door!”
Everyone else is thinking: “This jagoff is really going to
make us all shove out of his way and move to the door, just so when the train
stops, we all pile off anyway.”
One of the best CTA memories I have (only?), was one morning
when someone at the complete opposite end of the train from the door yelled,
“Coming out!!!”
His response? All fifteen people around him that were
standing all stared in unison and shook their heads.
He didn’t go anywhere.
AcKtORs
Away from rush hour there is another breed of obnoxious on
the train. These are people who think that they have their own reality show on
E!, even though there are no cameras and no one cares what they are saying.
One night I was on the train reading. It must have been a
blue moon because there were two girls across from me and one of them was
continuously checking me out. The train was almost empty and there was no need
to be yelling, but this girl felt the need to shout everything.
“I KNOW! CAN YOU BELIEVE DEREK? LIKE REALLY? I’M GLAD WE
BROKE UP. I’M GLAD” (Throws glance at me, who is diligently trying to read some
pretentious book, but is distracted by the twenty-something screaming at the
girl one inch away from her.) “LIKE HE TOLD ME THAT HE DIDN’T WANT IT TO GET
SERIOUS. SERIOUS! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!”
When I didn’t listen
to the drama, the girl – still looking my way – changed gears into a comedy
routine.
“SO LIKE MOLLY, RIGHT. SHE TOLD ME THAT SHE AND KURT RAN
INTO EACH OTHER THE STREET! LIKE LITERALLY BUMPED INTO EACH OTHER! CAN YOU
BELIEVE IT! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
It’s not just flirting that motivates people, though,
sometimes it’s because they just think other people care what they’re saying.
Another time on the red line home from work, this woman and
her boyfriend (?) both middleaged, were making out and talking at loud volumes.
Makeoutmakeoutmakeoutmakeout
“CAN YOU BELIEVE RANDY DIDN’T COME TO DINNER? THE NERVE!”
Makeoutmakeoutmakeout
I don’t know if it’s ageist or something, but the last thing
in the world I want to see is two people over forty making out. Like… No. It
doesn’t matter if they’re attractive, gay, straight, gorillas, dolphins, et.
al. I don’t want to see that. And I don’t want to hear them yell about boring
life minutae between periods of tonsil hockey.
I can't wait until it gets a little warmer. Then at least the cast of Suspects will expand to include Dude with Nice Arms in Tanktop.
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