Morning Smiles

To the guy on the train that takes the tickets...  you rock.

Usually, the folks at my Jitney stop (the little bus that takes us to the train) are the loud bunch.  We meet, we chat, we laugh, we get on the Jitney and laugh again at all the eye rolls and "oh, it's THAT stop" looks.  (For those that know me, this should not be a surprise).  We don't mind.  We have fun.

This morning we were all a bit subdued: a few of us were not feeling well, the others over tired.  On the whole, we felt yucky.

This general ickiness carried over to the train platform, where we stood in a daze, hoping for a painless commute.  The train stopped with the door right in front of me, which I always take as a sign of an easy day (it doesn't always work that way, but I am always hopeful).

The doors slid open, and there was the guy who takes the tickets.  He is a really nice guy that always has kind words in the morning, but today was different.

As the doors slid open, he announced to the people, "Only Smiling people are allowed in this car!  Smiles only, in this car!"

This proclamation immediately affected everyone waiting for the train, the laughter rolling through the crowd.  It was so silly, but we all felt suddenly lighter.

Once on the train and settled in, he came around for our tickets and asked everyone to show him their smile.  One guy rolled his eyes and the ticket guy said "Didn't you hear my announcement?  Only smiles on this car.  Don't make me kick you out!" Which, of course, had us smiling... even the rolling eyes guy.

Our ticket guy is like this every morning.  He smiles, he jokes, he remembers people (which is amazing considering he must handle thousands of passengers each day - and train commuters, as a group, are a pain in the ass).  If you are having a bad day, or feeling under the weather, you may find a comforting hand on your shoulder after showing him your ticket.  I have heard him ask after a passenger's son, who had come to work with his father a while back.  Our guy only saw the kid once, but he remembered. 

These little acts of kindness go such a long way toward making an uncomfortable, hectic, early commute bearable.  I wish everyone could experience our guy at least once (but please, not all at the same time!).

So, to the guy on the train that takes the tickets... thank you.  You rock.

Dinner Time

To the guy on the train chowing down on the aromatic fried chicken during the 6:00pm rush hour train... did you bring enough for everyone?

Seriously, I don't know how you made it off this train with all your digits in tact.

This train is full of people who, having worked a long damned day, and having not eaten anything in several hours (most likely), are rushing home to have their dinner.  These people are tired.  These people are hungry.  And now these people have to listen to you chomp and smack your deliciously smelling fried chicken.

Many of these people could not take their eyes off of you, licking their lips as you licked your fingers. Your terrible table manners aside, people could simply not stop watching you.

The digestive rumblings echoed throughout the car, predatory eyes seeking out the source of that smell.  The woman sitting next to you actually had to plug her nose, not, I believe, because it smelled bad, but because she was trying desperately to stop herself from leaning over and taking a bite - if she got some finger, she wouldn't have noticed.

I was two rows away and had to pump the volume on my iPod up as high as I could stand it, as though the sheer volume could cut out the smell.

One guy got up and stood by the door, like he had gotten in trouble and had to wear the dunce cap, just to escape the aroma.

And all the while, you, guy, you were loving every single bite.  Loudly.

I wonder how many people got off that train and ran straight to a KFC or a Popeye's for a quick fix?  How many people were texting home to say "scrap dinner, we're going out for chicken!"

On the one hand, I would say "thank you!" as your yummy smelling chicken possibly inspired many moments spontaneity tonight.

On the other hand, it was a really, really long train ride.

So, to the guy on the train chowing down on the aromatic fried chicken during the 6:00pm rush hour train... next time, bring enough for everyone!

Body Spray

To the guy on the train that thought it would be a good idea to douse himself in Axe Body Spray while on the train... you suck.

For one thing, that stuff smells like sweaty feet.

For another thing, spraying more of it on yourself doesn't make it smell better, it just makes you smell more.

I mean, did you not notice that the rows around you emptied of people, even though there were no empty seats on the train?

Did you not hear the gasping, coughing, hacking response to your attempt at hygiene?

Did you not realize that everyone left on the car was wiping the tears out of their eyes all the way into Manhattan?  Did you think you just happened onto the sad car?

I feel that it is my duty as a fellow passenger (and a woman) to warn you that the commercials for Axe may be a bit misleading.  Women do not run to you and attempt to undress you the moment you spray yourself, unless we are trying to dunk you into a vat of soapy water to get that smell out.  You do not appear "cool" or "awesome" when you spray that stuff on, you make everyone hate you and want to be very far away.  Especially on a train.

The sneezing alone should have alerted you that something was amiss.  Our car sounded like a musical commercial for allergy medications: the coughs, wheezes and sneezes the notes of the theme song, keeping rhythm with the train as it sped along.  It was bad.  My nose felt like it had been assaulted with a tiny can of industrial drying agent.

Don't do that again.  Ever.  Whether you are on a train, or at home, or out in a sunny field.  Just don't.

So, to the guy on the train that thought it would be a good idea to douse himself in Axe Body Spray while on the train, next time, how about a shower instead.  Please.

Diverted

To the guy on the train that pitched a huge hissy fit when we discovered that we were being diverted to Hoboken... calm down, dude.

Yes, it sucks that we will not be going into Penn Station today.  Yes, it sucks that being diverted to Hoboken adds at least 45 minutes to the commute.  Yes, we know that you are upset about it - we are too.  You just need to calm down.

Your screaming at the NJT workers will not make them change their minds and let us into Penn.  It will not magically levitate the train over the Hudson and into the city for you.  I'm sorry, but it won't.

The only thing your screaming and ranting will do is slow everyone else down as they stop to cart your ass off.  Or piss everyone else off, so that by the time we all get to Hoboken and have to stand like cattle in the hallway to the path...

... we are all about to start screaming along with you, which will do nothing as well. 

Just breathe.

Also, to the police officers that had to corral the crowd at the Hoboken Path station, I do not envy you today.  You maintained a calmness that I do not think I could have managed in your situation.

And to the guy on the Path train reading the paper, you need to learn the Wall Street Journal fold, man.  Opening the paper all the way on a crowded train is not cool.

It was a stressful morning filled with bumps, jostles, and people, but we all managed to get to work eventually.

So, to the guy on the train that pitched the huge hissy fit, I hope your day got better.

Cancelled trains.

To the guy on the train that is in charge of things... it's time to get your s#*t together.

It was not exceptionally cold this morning, so I know the tracks were not frozen.

The sun was shining brightly, so I know that rain or snow was not the issue.

It is not autumn, so there were no leaves on the track to cause train slippage (yes, they really use this excuse).

You have used the "fire on the tracks" excuse far too often lately for that to be true.

So why, oh why, were the trains so screwy today?  Why were several trains cancelled?

Why, on a train that usually has plenty of seats to go around, did we have to travel like this?

The excuses you use, guy in charge, vary depending on where you are standing.  If we are in Penn Station, you say it is the fault of Amtrak.  If we are traveling on New Jersey Transit tracks, you say it was a switch, or a track, or a mechanical issue.  Enough already!  Just fix it.  We would like to commute in general comfort without our personal space being violated.  It's not too much to ask.

And, to the guy on the train that gave up his seat for the elderly lady, I applaud you.

To the guy on the train that huffed and puffed because we were standing too close to your seat, tough nooggies. 

And to the guy on the train that is in charge of things, get back on your meds and fix it!

St. Patrick's Day

To the guy on the train that started celebrating a little early... it may have been better for you had you just stayed on the floor.

Watching your drunken meandering down the aisle while the train was in motion gave us a physical comedy routine that Chevy Chase would have envied.  It looked like the floor of the train was a bouncy house and you were an intrepid seven year old.

The business man that you sat on could not have been nicer, though we could tell he was having a very hard time holding in his laughter.  The woman who's lap was introduced to your face was a little less jovial, but she was at least wearing pants.  Every one of us dove out of the way when it looked like the beer you had an hour ago was about to make an appearance.  When, finally, you managed to find an empty seat and attempted to sit in it, it would have been better for you had you stayed on the floor.

For us, however, it was hysterical.  Many people offered to help you, but your inebriated curses left no one willing.  We were, however, completely willing to watch you make a fool of yourself trying to get your butt in that seat, and several people cheered when you were escorted off the train by a lovely police officer, who could not hold back his tears of laughter.

St. Patrick's Day is always an adventure in New York, especially on public transportation.  This year was no exception.

So, to the guy on the train that was too drunk to stand, I hope the hangover is a good one.

Laughter in the morning.

To the guy on the train that brought his kids to work this morning...

For the entire 40 minute train ride, you played, laughed, bounced, whispered, laughed, tickled, flipped, hugged and laughed with your two young children.

Your fellow passengers, mostly business men and women dressed in suits, gearing up for the day, started out giving you furtive glances, annoyed that the soundtrack of their morning routine was to be you and your children.  Annoyed that they just wanted to close their eyes, read their book, work on their report, listen to music, and were now distracted by the near constant peals of kiddie laughter coming from  your seat.

Luckily, you didn't notice them.  Or, if you did notice, you ignored them. 

For as the train sped along, slowly a smile began to creep onto the faces of those around you.  It started out small, but as the laughter kept going, the smiles grew.  Soon, it was infectious.  The entire car was filled to bursting with smiling, giggling, pleasant people.  You and your children infected everyone around you with joy.

It is very difficult to ignore the laughter of a child, after all.

The affect lasted for a while, too.  While exiting the train, people were generous and allowed others to go first (not normally the case during rush hour in the morning).  I watched strangers commune over the laughter of your children.  I saw men wave at your daughter as you held her in your arms.  I heard women laughing while insisting the other go first, then bumping into each other and laughing again.  It was simply amazing.

Unfortunately, it wore off at the bottom of the escalator, where the "me first" attitude and normal pushing recommenced.

But for a while, it was lovely.  And I hope that you realized the affect that your little family had on us. I hope your day remains as pleasant as our ride became.

So I ask  you, guy on the train... Could you bring your children to work again tomorrow?

Ew

To the guy on the train...

Yes, we smelled it too.

And yes, we knew it was you.