There is a special ring of hell dedicated to commuters, but it’s does not have flames or lava. Instead, they are tortured by being imprisoned inside a metal tube filled with strangers. It is as if everyone is suffering through an apocalypse together.
There are no displays of courtesy as everyone acts as if Gordon Ramsay is ready to launch into a tirade. I understand this suffering all too well given that the last fifteen years of my life were spent being moved around like cattle slotted into public transport systems. One would think that this is easy, people share a single space for a singular purpose: reaching their destination.
In an ideal scenario, this singular purpose would result in cooperation, where each passenger does everything in their power to make the train journey as tolerable as possible. Sadly, this is not the case. Instead, these trains are filled with people who shove and scratch like they are contestants in a UFC battle.
Let’s start with what should be the core essence of a public transport rule: the space distribution principle. The number of area not occupied at a point in time divided by the number of people multiplied by the napped attended reaches a space per person value, and also sticks to the rule of not occupying more than three seats at once, to make place as if for a garage sale. Anytime I use public transportation, there is always one person who thinks: “Why are you standing?
Just do the math: There’s my brief case, a backpack, and my tote bag: all on their own seats!”
Last Tuesday, I spotted a lady entering my regular 7:45 train, targets her stylish hand bag on the seat next to her, take off her coat only to cover a third seat which could be used by other people, and then starts staring at the wall intently. As soon as the train conductor announces that the journey will be taken won’t be the traditional route due to more passengers getting on board leading to longer distances needing to be traversed, the standing passengers faces turned into a new form of expression I’ve decided to name, Restlessness Rage. Only in that moment did she grudgingly decide to restrict her portable kingdom, with her facial expressions communicating she was committing to an act of extreme selflessness.
Let’s talk about how one manages their listening habits. At some point in our technological evolution, we as a society agreed that any form of decent sound headphones will be used if needed, not as a compulsion. The outcome is a blend of terrible sound quality being emitted from everyone’s earbuds in a cacophony of competition.
I unintentionally specialize in the genre of many strangers who I have come across. From passionate rap to, what I can only assume is music electronic composed by and for robots that had existential dilemmas. I have heard it all.
On Wednesday morning, the man that was sitting beside me seemed to be listening to a political podcast which he had at a volume that indicated he was perhaps losing his hearing. Let’s just say that in the span of 20 minutes, I came to learn everything I could about my neighbor’s political views that some of my relatives who I have shared family gatherings with for decades have never discussed. When I caught him staring at me and gave him a gesture towards his ear buds, the expression on his face changed into one of genuine confusion where I realized that he was unable to fathom the fact that the audio that he might be hearing could escape the minuscule speakers that were lodged in his ears.
The topic of what people eat on public transportation could spawn an entire essay on human thoughtlessness. I know the feeling of being constantly rushed, of needing to do multiple things at once, and even the desire to eat while on the go. I cannot, however, understand why someone would choose to bring a tuna salad into an enclosed space at 8 AM.
The lady sitting four seats from me yesterday made this choice while confidently unwrapping her breakfast, unbothered by the fact that her meal would stink up the public transport’s recycled air. What is truly astounding is how she turned this increasingly worse with every second. The first reveal of the tuna was just the crust to the pie, and what came after was the real show stopper.
My tuna friend followed this up with a none too subtle apple which she crunched with the force akin to stomping on frozen puddles. She then topped this off with a yogurt tub which she mercilessly scraped with a plastic spoon well past the point any reasonable person would’ve stopped. This performance had more plot development than some films I have seen over the years.
Somehow, personal grooming activities like nail clipping, makeup application, and shaving migrate from private spaces to public transport without anyone being alarmed. I was shocked when I saw a man cut his airplane beard with a trimmer without caring for those around him. The electrical device rained facial hair on people near him, creating an empty yet gross area around him.
The “quiet car” is a space reserved for people who prefer no music or talking during a commute. To my disbelief, the car has a lot of posters stating “QUIET CAR – No phone calls or loud conversations.” There are always new people boarding who clearly buddy pass these rules with every inch of their body, treating them as mere suggestions. A lady was conducting what looked like a full business meeting through her phone’s speaker.
Not a private call to her ear which would’ve also been annoying, but a full speaker conference call with her colleagues’ voices blaring through the car. By the time another passenger decided to point at the ‘Quiet Car’ sign, I had already lost it. To say that woman rolled her eyes would be an understatement.
Perhaps, we the reasonable ones expecting silence in an area meant for that purpose. The doors of public transport vehicles serve their own platforms reserved for human lunacy. Somehow, there exists a peculiar type of commuter who firmly believes standing directly in front of the doors when they open, blocking the exit of those trying to get out is an effective way to board the train not as spatially ignorant as a toddler.
I have noticed this sort of door-blocking behavior seems to go way beyond age, gender, and social class. I’ve watched teenagers and professional, suited, executives alike dedicate the same amount of effort to this obnoxious ritual of blocked doorway. Once you get on, the game of positioning starts.
At this point, it’s common knowledge to “spread out” as much as possible when there are empty seats on public transit, and this is not only on trains. The algorithm could not be simpler: Guess how much area there is available, and split space between persons as evenly as possible. For some reason, it happens way too often, that someone gets into a half filled car, and opts to sit next to someone who is already sitting, with complete careless disregard to the “buffer zone” as if they are on some kind of psychological attack.
A day ago, there was this man who was sitting near me in an almost empty train car with at least 15 pairs of empty seats. To my shock, he sat next to me, with his newspaper spared out to cover both of us. He started turning the pages by flicking his wrist with so much force that it started hitting my arm.
On my end, I was stuck looking out the window, wondering if this was a power move or an attempt to tell me that my social boundaries are wrong. The ‘pole hugger’ phenomenon completely ‘poles’ physics over as these people on buses and trains treat the support poles as full-body appendages that ‘hug’ with the enthusiasm of lovers. This approach does proficiency in balance stander’s proximity gait, supernatural.
I witnessed a woman hugging the pole, it can easily be assumed that the standers around her were feeling the same things a koala on a eucalyptus tree would feel like while struggling to maintain some bit of balance during a jerky movement. The world has evolved with technology making it possible for etiquette norms to cross dimensions. While the aforementioned example already confirms so, now with video calls becoming a parallel, there emerges more distortion to etiquette.
Last week at the train station, a woman three seats ahead suddenly jumped on a video call and started talking about her sisters marriage and mocking her coworkers wardrobe which was completely fine till the addendum came, a camera shot as a tile sample which was very public. Imagine watching a friend place a tile into the camera as if they were presenting an art exhibition. If you are elderly, pregnant, or disabled, then you should be able to access the priority seating without any issue.
However, I have seen someone trying to engross themselves in their phone and only make an effort to avoid staring at the elderly passengers who are swaying before them. Try putting yourself into a scenario where your focus is on an elderly person with a cane who is standing right before you. You will realize that it will take immense effort for to disguise having noticed them and might burn extra calories when compared to residing in a workout.
It’s like magic trick to all of us. We, as a whole, have refrained from accepting a lot of things. Public transport does not help with noise and scents that are an overall part of human nature, especially in enclosed spaces.
This myth loses strength when a new passenger boards who thinks putting on cologne means literally drowning in the spray, or believes that they can go around sneezing without any coverage and it being socially acceptable. A mobile petri dish best describes public transport during flu season. I have seen some passengers with serious hacking coughs that could put them into quarantine, making it seem like I’m watching a Victorian Era drama.
During the pandemic, wearing a mask was normalized, but now it feels like everyone is fine with covering their mouth when they cough, which shouldn’t be the case. To think that everyone has accepted the spraying of viral particles over shared surfaces as an urban norm is bizarre. These backpack wearers occupy a whole new category.
First, they get onto crowded buses and trains, then they whip around like they’re on a dance floor, showcasing a 180 profile. In trains packed to the brim, the physics of an overly loaded backpack works like a pendulum, and believe it or not, three times in my life, I’ve had to brace myself while jumping over an imaginary hurdle because these mechanics have come close to throwing me off my feet. As absurd as it may sound, some commuters out there find placing a packed backpack between their feet as ridiculous as mutually speaking Mandarin for no legitimate reason, says a lot around the world.
What strikes me as the most interesting is how these etiquette breaches happen on a daily basis and they occur on an international level. From London to Tokyo and New York to Paris, similar behaviors are recurring which means that there is something natural within all of us instead of this being a cultural issue. Bus travel may be the great equalizer meaning that it is the socail setting that strips away our socialization and reveals our wild selves underneath.
Nonetheless, I occasionally experience stunning things that make me regain my trust. Young individuals giving their seats to older passengers willingly. Members of a public transport system begin shifting to create a gap if they notice a parent with a child in a stroller.
The manner in which people fit into trains during peak time without passing tired some type of intricate human puzzle that sorts itself out in real life. These examples are fleeting so there are not many rules or expectations responsible for them. If society began treating public transportation as a unique joint activity instead of a monotonous task, these issues would not occur and humans would rely on basic etiquette instead of having to write rules.
Until that day finally arrives, I will still make my daily pilgrimage with noise-canceling headphones wrapped around my head and a calculated tardiness that ensures I’ll get a seat. Plus, I have the sunken acceptance of someone who views public transport less as a way to get around and more as a social experiment in the absurd rudeness of humanity.
