I used to work downtown in Chicago and would take the train
back and forth. If you haven’t ridden a train into the city you probably aren’t
familiar with the protocol. So I will educate you.
First,
you pick an empty seat when possible. Sitting next to someone on the train,
unless absolutely necessary, is just creepy and weird. Although there are more
people in large cities it has the adverse effect in that most often you know
less people than a small town person might know. Small town people want to know
one another. City people, most of the time, do not want to know one another.
There are people that will continue to walk from train car to train car just to
see if there is an empty seat. It is simple train etiquette.
Second,
you don’t look at people as you walk by them on the train. It is best to think
everyone is in their own world. I used to call the three-foot circle around me
the danger zone. Thanks Top Gun. Again, it’s creepy to look at people. Up there
with Hannibal Lector.
Third,
if you absolutely, most positively, must sit next to someone, you don’t talk.
People may say hello, do a head nod, or most likely just a polite smile.
Passengers tend to read on the train, whether a book, nook, kindle, iPad,
newspaper, magazine, computer, cell phone, whatever. They may also just sit and
listen to music on their iPod. They may sleep or rest their eyes. But conversation
is just too far past the norm.
One
day on my way home a young lady sat next to me. Honestly, I don’t remember what
she looks like. Couldn’t even tell you what she was wearing. Made that much of
an impression. Not saying she wasn’t someone to remember, I just didn’t care
enough to attempt to remember. As I was staring out the window my tactic was to
leave my computer bag on the seat next to me so people would take another seat
and use me as a last resort. She asked to sit there. I moved the bag while holding
my gaze out the window. Then she made the fatal error. She said the doomed
phrase.
“What did you do downtown today?”
I slowly moved my head and looked
at her. I probably sat there silent for a few seconds, but what felt like hours,
because of the pure shock that someone said something to me. I could hear
whispers around me as if the girl wore the scarlet letter just for opening her
mouth in front of people.
“Well, I was working,” I replied.
“What do you do for work?” she
persisted.
At that point, I figured if we were
going to keep this going I was going to entertain myself as much as I was going
to entertain her.
I proceeded to tell her how I was
the lead guitarist for Matchbox 20 and was recording our new album at a famous
studio downtown. I continued on that my family lived out in the suburbs (the
only truth to this story) and that I was heading out there to have dinner with
them before I came back into the city to finish recording. Our new album would
be out in the fall and it was going to be landmark.
As I heard the Oak Forest exit I
stood up, said excuse me, and walked on towards the door. As I walked down the
aisle, gullible girl said to have a great dinner. I waved and walked out the
door.
I never saw this person again. The ironic
thing is that Matchbox 20 was apparently working on an album at that time. And
it released that fall. Some person out there was telling her friends how she
met their lead guitarist, most likely bought that album (it was fine, but not
their best), and has the story of a lifetime. Although when she saw the picture
of the guys on the album, I would imagine she realized I wasn’t in the band.
There are some morals to the story.
First, talk to people on the train.
You can’t make a mark in this life or make a difference if you don’t talk to
people. You may not start with what were you doing downtown, but interacting
with people shouldn’t be discouraged. There are of course times where
discretion and thought should go through your mind before you start an interaction,
but nonetheless, enjoy humanity. You can learn a lot from situations that
weren’t anything more than sitting with someone you don’t know.
Secondly, I realized I was a born
storyteller, but that can also be used for evil. Without ever telling the person
it was a joke and a funny story (I have a snobby sense of humor) it was
ultimately a lie. And as harmless as it may seem, everything starts small. Even
sin. I have plenty of stories that I’ve told as a joke at someone else’s
expense, but I haven’t done that in a long time. It’s easier to pull out a weed
when it’s small than to wait until its roots are deep in the foundation.
Next stop, Tinley Park.
