Terrible Marketing

To the lady on the train that tried to recruit me to your "team"... your sales pitch sucks.

This morning I boarded the train as usual, sat in my seat as usual, and closed my eyes (as usual) for the trip to the city.  This morning, however, I could feel her watching me.

My career in the performing arts has made me very tuned in to when people are watching me. I can feel their eyes on me, I can tell their attention is focused my way.  It goes with being an actor, I think.

I cracked my eye to look for the source of my feeling, and I saw a woman sitting across the aisle, a few rows away in a seat that faced mine, staring.  Not trying to hide it at all.  Just... staring.

I decided to close my eyes again and just ride it out.  I did peek every so often, when the feeling became unbearable, and each time I caught her staring.  It was a bit disturbing by the end of my 45 minute train ride.

Finally, as we were in line to exit the train, she handed me her business card with a hand written note on it.  She didn't say a word, just handed me the card.  My naturally curious instincts had me taking the card from her and saying "Thank you" before I had looked at what I was taking.

As it turned out, I was being handed an insult, and I took it with a "Thank you."

She handed me an Herbalife card (for those of you that do not know, Herbalife is a weight loss system that costs an arm and a leg).  On the card was written a note.  Now, a good person would have said something like "Feel free to call me if you have any questions," or "I have had great results, you should give me a call so I can tell you all about it."  Both of those are a bit insulting, but at least they are polite and a bit conspiratorial.  A decent person would have said something like "I believe I can help you," or "You should give us a try."  A little more insulting, but nothing I couldn't abide.

A terrible person would write what this woman did. As I looked at the card to read her note my heart dropped and I actually felt ill.

"You're too fat. You need this."

Excuse me?

I said "Wow, I'm really not interested."

She said "You should be."

"Lady, you don't know my life.  You don't know anything about me.  How dare you hand me something like this.  I hope you have as good a day as you've just made mine."

She had the nerve to look insulted.

The woman behind me asked what she gave me, so I showed her.  She hugged me and said "You are beautiful.  Don't let that heffer make you feel bad." I almost cried.

The woman behind her hugged me too.  Someone else patted me on the back.  The gratitude I felt for those people in that moment can not be measured.

That this woman thought that it would be OK to hand me that card, with that message, hoping that I would call her to buy her products is astounding.  How on Earth could she think that I would find that note enticing?  What made her think that saying that would be the best way to get my business?  What really pissed me off is that I said "Thank you" before I knew what I was taking. What an ass.

Not only did she ensure that I will never call her for anything, ever, she ensured that I will never use Herbalife.  If a company has that kind of person representing them, I want no part of it.

So, to the lady on the train that tried to recruit me to your "team"... I hope Herbalife knows the kind of person they have representing them.  I hope you experience, just once, what you put me through today, simply so you will know how it feels.  You need never make any assumptions about another human or the path that they have to walk.  It makes you an ass.

Also, your sales pitch sucks.

Small Heroes

To the guy on the train that gave up his seat... thank you.

Yet again this morning, New Jersey Transit was cancelling trains.  The exact quote used in their announcement was, "New Jersey Transit would like to apologize... we were forced to cancel the 8:31 train to New York..."  Forced.  Uh huh.

When our normal train gets cancelled, they usually have the express train run local, which means, beginning at our stop, people are standing in the aisles.  Today was no exception.

We were all standing there, bracing ourselves for the rocky ride, dealing with the sighs and groans from the sitters, upset that their space was getting crowded.  Every time we came to a stop the guy standing next to me stomped on my foot, trying to pretend that he was far more graceful than the evidence suggested.  He never apologized.

In short, nothing new for a cancelled train day.

Then something awesome happened.

A man a few rows down from where I was offered his seat to a woman standing in the aisle.  She was appropriately grateful.  Then, catching the gratitude wave, another man a few rows away offered his seat to another woman that had been standing.  And then another one!  It was amazing to see; the men looked slightly proud that they had done a good deed for the day, and the women were grateful, appearing fairly surprised that they found chivalry on New Jersey Transit. 

About two stops into the journey, a woman sitting a row away from me exited the train.  The man that had been standing right next to her offered me her seat. "Would you like to sit here?"  "Yes, thank you so much!" I said.  He smiled at me.  "You're quite welcome."

By the end of our ride another two or three women had been offered seats, with very little complaining from the men left standing in the aisle (I say very little complaining because it would not have been a NJT train without some blowhard being pissy about something).

It is so nice to see people catching a wave of courtesy and jumping on.  I don't usually expect that kind of offer on the train, everyone so intent on getting from point A to point B that we barely see each other.  The men that gave up their seats made a woman very happy, made her feel noticed.  And sometimes, that is enough.

So, to the guy on the train that gave up his seat... thank you.  You made my day.

Inappropriate Sounds

To the guy on the train making love to his popcorn... shut it down!

I had to take a later train home last night and, apparently, it was the dinner train.  Everyone around me was quietly and politely eating their dinners, trying as much as possible to keep it private.

I ended up sitting in one of those "facing each other" seats, across from a man and his popcorn.  He had this popcorn in a paper bag tube (that's the only way I can describe it) that was as long as his arm.  He would hold the bag up like a trumpet, his mouth attached to the end of the bag, and chomp on mouthful after mouthful of this popcorn. 

If only that was all he did.

Each time he held the bag up to his face, he would moan, groan, smack his lips, and "num-num-num" for the entire 30 to 45 seconds the bag was aloft.  It was incredibly inappropriate.  After he had filled his maw with as much popcorn as he could, he would continue the moaning and groaning while he chomped and chewed with his eyes closed.

People around us were getting very uncomfortable.  The girl sitting behind him was mortified and kept hiding her blushing face in her hands.  The people across the aisle were giving him looks of death, and fanning themselves.  One guy walking down the aisle looking for a seat actually muttered, "Oh, man!"

It got to the point where people started to look at me like, "Dude, do something!"

I would look at them back like, "Why me?!?!"

Then they would look at me like, "You're closest!"

And I would look back like, "That doesn't make me in charge!"

And they would look at me like, "Somebody's got to do something!"

And I would look back like, "Not it!"

And then we all just looked at each other.  Except popcorn guy.  He just kept on "num-num-numming" his way through the bag.

Finally, when the bag was empty of popcorn, and he pulled the piece of bag from his mouth, he heaved a big sigh.

I said, "Good popcorn?"

Everyone around us laughed.

He just looked at me.

So, to the guy on the train making love to his popcorn... it is really inappropriate to do that in public.  Shut it down!

Eavesdropper

To the guy on the train that totally eavesdropped on my conversation... thank you!

This morning, my train friend Judy and I were talking about the new Heartbleed virus that has supposedly affected at least 66% of the Internet, and how scary it is.  Neither of us being tech or security experts, we could only wonder at the scope of this virus. (It even has its own logo!).

I noticed that this guy sitting in front of us getting awfully fidgety during our discussion.  Finally, he turned around and said, "Hi.  I don't mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you talking about the Heartbleed virus.  I work in IT and it is a huge problem!"

He went on to explain that the virus is affecting the open SSL servers up to version 1.0.1g, which has been fixed, meaning that any open SSL server between 1.0.1 and 1.0.1f are affected.  What this virus allows the hacker to do is to view all encrypted data on all affected websites.  However, the most dangerous and problematic issue, is that the hacker can view all secure certificates issued by the open SSL servers.  That means that even after a company has secured their servers, the hacker can still get into the system through an old certificate.

This poor guy was telling me that he has to go through the last three years of certificates, close them all out, and issue new ones, for every transaction from the last three years.  (Heartbleed has only been affecting servers for the last two years, they think, but his company wants to go back three years just to be sure).

I asked him what I could do as a layperson to protect myself and my information, and his response was, "Change all your passwords and stay off the Internet for about a week."  He also suggested using Google Chrome for my browser (which I already do) and adding the Chromebleed applet, which alerts you if you are heading to a site that has been affected, or continues to be affected, by Heartbleed.

Well, I work on the Internet, so that's out, but I did change all my passwords.  He also suggested that I change my passwords again in a week, and again a week after that.  This bug is apparently a doozy!

If you'd like to know a little more, check out this article about Heartbleed.

Also, tell your families, friends, acquaintances and strangers to change their passwords. We could all be dealing with this virus for a while.

So, to the guy on the train that totally eavesdropped on my conversation... good luck and I'm sorry that you have to deal with this bug on a professional level.  Also, thank you!  I feel slightly better about the Internet after chatting with you on the train.

Commuters

To the guy on the train that just wants to get through it... I'm with you, man.

There are a lot of people that commute into and out of the city everyday.  I mean, a lot.  Between New Jersey Transit, Long Island Rail Road, Metro North, subways, buses, ferries...  it's a lot of people.

This morning I took the earlier train in order to have a quick meeting before work.  This 8:00 train is much more crowded than my normal 8:30 train.  Its also much less jovial and much, much quieter.  The group heading into the city at 8:00 seems to just want to get it over with.  They all understand the drill, they find a seat, park their butts, and ride it out.  There is no happy-making ticket guy, no chatty pals, no busybodies; just commuters.  Lots and lots of commuters.

I got off the train toward the front this time as I had to catch the 1/9 up to my meeting, rather than my usual egress toward the back of the train and the hell that is 8th Avenue in the mornings.  It turns out that the 1/9 section of Penn is a whole different kind of hell in the morning.

The major difference between the 8th Avenue hell and the 1/9 hell is the people.  At least on 8th Avenue we are outside and the crush of people can be scootched around if necessary (though you sometimes take your life in your hands while scootching).  The 1/9 side, however, is all underground.  The same number of people, all stuffed into sticky hallways and onto pee infused platforms. 

That said, the 1/9 side of the station is filled with people just getting it over with.  Very little emotion, very little eye contact, mumbled "excuse me's" and "pardon's," but no one getting bent out of shape, no one laughing, no one feeling.  Just people moving from point A to point B. 

People just trying to get through it. 

Taking the early train was a nice change of pace today, but I think I prefer my jovial, friendly train and my 8th Avenue hell.  The group of folks just trying to get where ever they were going with very little connection made me feel a little sad, a little defeated.  Keeping our heads down and just getting through is no way to go through life.  I would rather be bothered.  I would rather someone be too inquisitive, someone try to make me laugh, someone notice I'm there.  I would rather take my life in my hands trying to pass some slow folks that refuse to let go of each other's hands while walking down the street, than to move along like cattle and not notice or be noticed. 

I would rather get where I'm going full of emotion, no matter the emotion, than get there feeling dead inside and defeated before the day even begins.

I would rather take a ride, than simply commute.

So, to the guy on the train that just wants to get through it... I'm with you, man.  And I hope you get where you're going.  I hope you arrive feeling something.  Anything.  And I hope, next time, that you notice me.  I'll be the redhead that smiles when you look up. 

Just Deserts

To the guy on the train that was harassing people for money... you got what you deserved.

I'm used to people begging and harassing on the subways - it's part of being a New Yorker.  Heck, that guy Patrick on the 1/9 train has been out of work for "the last 2 years" and wearing the same arm cast for about 15 years now.

It's very rare on the NJ Transit trains.  There was a begging man today, though.

This guy was something else.  I could hear him yelling at people from about two cars away.  Anyone who told him "no" or ignored him got a tongue lashing.  Especially the women.

I had such a good day that I tried to take the coward's way out and just closed my eyes.  I didn't want anything to sully the niceness of my day.  The next thing I knew I was being shaken by the begging man.  Shaken.  Not nudged, or poked.  Shaken.

Snapping my eyes open I said "What?"

"I need a dollar!"

"Sorry."

"Gimme a dollar!"

"No!"  I closed my eyes again, hoping that he would just leave.  I know... coward's way out.

Then he shook me again.  He didn't nudge.  He didn't poke.  He shook.  He bit off a bit more than he could chew with that one.

"Motherf%$@*r you'd better back off!  Put your hands on me again and see what happens!"

(I am a redhead, after all).

Then he put his hands on me.  Again.  My arms began to fly, trying to deflect the shaking.

At this, the man sitting across the aisle from me (and consequently behind the begging shaker-man) stood up.  He was huge.  6'5" at least.  Shaker-man didn't see him.  Everybody else did, though.

My hero grabbed the begging shaker-man by the back of his neck, marched him down the aisle and tossed him off the train.  Shaker-man went limp as though my hero had some kind of Vulcan death-grip on the guy, rendering him immobile.  And I mean tossed him off the train - I don't think the shaker-man's feet touched the ground the whole way.  There was a lot of screaming and yelling outside the train car, with lots of colorful phrases that I will store away for future use.  It was amazing.

There was a great tension in the car as my hero returned.  He was a little scary.  And very large.

I said "And stay out!" at which point the tension broke and we all laughed.  People even clapped for my hero.

"Thank you," I said.  "That was incredible of you."

"My pleasure, ma'am."

I was rescued by a stranger on the train!

My good day remained unsullied by the begging shaker-man, thanks to my hero who stepped in and took care of things.  

There are some really nice people on the world and they reach out to each other, and help a stranger, and smile unexpectedly, and clap for heroics, and give up their seats for the elderly or for children, and do what they can to make the day a little better.  They are everywhere.  They are legion.  And they are really nice.

So, to the guy on the train that was harassing people for money... you totally got what you deserved.  But we got to witness a hero in action.  So thank you for that, begging shaker-man.  But you totally got what you deserved.

Cranberry Juice

To the lady on the train that was too interested in my personal life... back off.


There is something about me that just makes people want to tell me things.  No matter where I go, I find myself talking to total strangers about all kinds of things, including some very personal details.  Standing in line anywhere, I usually hear about someone's love life, or their health problems, or how hard it is to find good underwear (yes, that was a real conversation).  About 90% of the time I don't mind at all; people fascinate me and I am totally willing to listen to their stories.  8% of the time it annoys me as I am usually in a hurry or not feeling well and I really don't want to listen.  The other 2% of the time, though, it really pisses me off.  This morning was a 2% morning.

There I was, sitting peacefully on the train, drinking cranberry juice and trying to read my book.

 

Then she got on the train...

Her: Hi.

Me: G'morning.

Her: Do you have a UTI?

Me: Nnnnnnnnnoo...

Her: It means a Urinary Tract...

Me: Yeah, I know what it means.

Her: So do you have one?

Me: No!

Her: But you're drinking cranberry juice!

Me:  Yes.  I like cranberry juice.

Her: Women only drink cranberry juice when they have a UTI.

Me: Yes.  Also, when they like cranberry juice!

Her: You don't have to be shy, honey, we're all friends here.

Me: No, actually, we're all strangers who happen to ride the same train.

Her: Well, for a UTI what you really should be doing is...

Me: Lady, seriously, I just want to drink my juice, and read my book.

Her: Well! When that UTI gets worse you just come find me and I will tell you how to fix it for good.

Me:  Sure thing.

 For the record, I really do just like cranberry juice.

So, to the lady on the train that was too interested in my personal life... mind your own business.  And back off!