Saturday, March 29, 2008

The T, The T



Here is a picture of our most chosen mode of transportation. . . These little trains squeal around the corner to pick us up almost every time we go out and I've become quite fond of them. One day last week, their were some Ts that were out of service on the D line that I take to work and so I had to wait with many anxious commuters quite awhile for one to come through the tunnel. Well, when one finally did, I wasn't quite aggressive enough about getting on and by the time I made my way to the stairs it was pretty full. I didn't want to keep waiting though, so I tried to squeeze myself in, thinking 'there's always room for one more, right?'. . . evidently not, because everyone on the train actually groaned "NOOOOOOO" as they saw me easing my way in. I think I remember seeing an example like that in my abnormal psychology book in college. It had a caption that said something like, "people experiencing extreme paranoia may feel that no one wants to be around them."

Then yesterday, I went to do homework at a library about 3 miles away. On the way home, I just missed the T that I wanted to catch, and again, I didn't feel like waiting, so I decided that I could run along with the train and meet it at its next stop. So, laptop bag and groceries flapping in the breeze, I went, only to, of course not be able to catch up with the locomotive at its next spot--what was I thinking? Anyways, I was still thinking that, because the Ts have to stop at traffic lights, I had a chance of catching it down the line... I probably don't need to tell you that I never caught up with it, that I walked/ran all the freezing way home, and that I actually missed two other Ts that passed me, headed in my direction. I think next time I will just wait the eight minutes for the next one.

A sweet T story to end the post on: Last week I was in the T during the morning rush hour, when the T cars are so full you kind of have to give up any ideals you had for personal space, and two mothers with three almost-toddlers came on. They were really having a hard time with all the babies gear and keeping the kiddies with them in the crowd. The T driver turned off the train and came marching back to the car where I was standing along with the mothers, almost-toddlers, and a sea of business people. I was worried that he was going to have the moms and babies get off because there are these new controversial laws that might go into effect that prohibit strollers during rush hour. Instead, though, this huge man started pleading with everyone that had seats to give them up for the kids and their moms. "Can we PLEASE get some seats back here? We've got some REAL little kids on board?" And all of a sudden, everyone, absolutely everyone got up to give the moms/babies their seat, leaving the moms/babies with quite a choice, because now all of the seats were empty. The moms let the little kids pick which seats they wanted and they sat down and everyone else remained standing up, almost in reverance for the "REAL little kids" that the T driver had made them aware of. That was my stop, and it really was sweet, as I walked away, to look back and see, through the windows, the little kids bouncing around in their open seats.

7 comments:

Jodi Girden said...

after that kind of experience, i'm sure these real little kids will never experience that abnormal paranoia that no one wants them. rather, they will go through life expecting the t cars to clear when they step into the crowd! too bad you didn't have a stroller with you that cold morning.

Rahim said...

That reminds me of how you once said that you didn´t like the Chicago metro because you felt like people pretended like everyone else on the metro didn´t have mothers or brothers or beds they went home too.

The conductor sounds like he gave them a nice wake-up call.

doctorbarefoot said...

i reeeeally appreciate the use of all-caps for REAL, because goodness knows I use that sort of prefix for my intensely REAL things, and it helps me just hear the conducter the way you did. God bless the T.

Amber said...

Oh wow, chasing the T doesn't sound like much fun! But it's a good substitution for going to the gym.

I have to say, as somebody who will be a mother to a REAL little baby any day now, I would've appreciated the conductor doing that for me - at least while I'm pregnant.

Katie said...

you are hilarious- I love the way you write (and talk.) I miss Emily and Jodi stories! I think this would've been even better hearing oyu tell it in person, laughing before you can get your words out, LOL!

Anonymous said...

The T at Coolidge Corner looks like a scene from a great childhood.

Brooke said...

oh emily i love this. i got to hear it read aloud by Amanda when we were together last weekend. it was wonderful. we laughed and exulted and cherished all the goodness of emily voice in our midst. i hope we don't have to wait for another wedding to cross paths again. i like our email "crossing paths". also, train related story---i saw a red-haired man with little brown haired triplets in matching cotton candy pink coats walking from the train the other day. really fascinating. tried to stare without making the man feel more self-conscioius than he already looked.