Monday, August 16, 2010

The Angry Commuter, ver. 1

Most of you know that I commute three days a week to get to work. I've been doing it for five years now, so I consider myself a seasoned commuter.

This doesn't mean I don't deal with everyday idiocy of non-commuters, however.  There are two kinds of commuters that annoy me: The Clueless Commuter, and the Annoying Commuter.

First, the Clueless:

 I take a local train in the morning which means that yes, it makes all the little local stops in CT on its way to its final destination- Grand Central Terminal in NYC. I can't tell you how much this confuses people. Most of the time I'll get on the train, sit in my usual seat, and deal with 1-2 people who jump on the train and breathlessly ask me, "Is this train going to Grand Central?"

Normally these people don't care if you're talking to someone, listening to music, reading, etc. I've actually had someone poke me in the back to get my attention. Yeah. I turned around and hissed, "DON'T TOUCH ME!" She had the nerve to look annoyed at me. She's lucky she didn't lose that finger.

What amazes me the most is that people just don't pay attention. If you're new to commuting, or even taking a train, wouldn't you usually get the train track information in the station?  There is a huge board in the station that has every train, time, and track-and it's final destination! Would you just assume a train is going anywhere and jump on it not knowing?

So I usually will helpfully explain to the newcomers that, yes, this train IS going to NY, but it is a local, and that an express will pull up on the track next to us in about 5 minutes, and get them there quicker. 

I've now learned my lesson to not even give out this much information. Nothing confuses them more than saying "Local" vs. "Express."  I then have to go into great detail on what exactly this means, although you don't have to be a Rhodes Scholar to figure it out, right?  Usually they will ignore me anyway and when the conductor comes on the speaker and repeats what I just said, there is a stampede of people jumping off the local and waiting for the express.

So now if people ask I just say, "I think so," or "I don't know." I once had some woman get all uppity with me because I had the nerve to not know if the train stopped at Bumfuck Connecticut. Listen lady, I know that the train gets off at my stop-anything beyond that is fair game. Could be the Orient Express for all I know.  I lost my shit with her, and said, "Didn't you think to ASK when you were in the station, or read the big board with all the track information?"  She walked away in a huff.

Not all Clueless Commuters annoy me, though. I once had a delightful British family (and yes, having lived in Britain I am quite biased toward all things British-even the food) ask me where the dining car was. I had to explain that unlike the excellent British Rail system, Metro North offered no food (except the occasional french fry wedged in between seats). "But you have time to run downstairs to Ye Olde Dunkin' Donuts if you want," I helpfully explained to them.

Anyway, on to Annoying Commuters:

You know who they are. They are the ones who get on the train and before that ass even hits the seat whips out there Blackberry/iphone/Smartphone and has to immediately call Bob or Jane at the office (and this is at 6:30 a.m, mind you) and go on and on and on about the case/the papers/the deal and how they MUST talk details now.

Look. You can talk. You can laugh. You can do your filthy business dealings on the train. But for god's sake tone it down so the whole train doesn't have to suffer. No one cares about your fabulous deal. No one cares how much money you'll make.  I can't tell you how these insufferable jackasses grind my gears.  If they aren't business whores they are just plain idiots talking and screeching loudly on their phone, or making the rest of us suffer by listening to whatever music is blasting through their headphones.

Case in point: Tonight there was a guy on the train home who was a roofer, and had a call from Tatiana. Well for the next twenty minutes I heard this man fight with Tatiana about the roof he installed, and how it wouldn't leak, and how it didn't matter if there was tar paper (?!) down (but there was, he assured her) or not. Every couple of minutes he wouldn't hear her, and would have to bark out, "HAH?" It ended with poor Ms. Tatiana, convinced she was being ripped off, hanging up on Loud Annoying Roofer and him calling his business partner, screaming about how they were getting "Effed out of the job because what if "they" (they who? Family members? Lawyers? The mob?) go over there and see that there wasn't tar paper down.  I wish I had this guys name, because seriously...I basically listened to him lie to Ms. Tatiana about tar paper and there he was admitting it.  But he was so loud that the entire car had to listen to his saga for twenty minutes before we blissfully arrived at our final stop.

My point is: No one cares. No one cares who you are talking to, what you do for a living, or what kind of shit music you are listening to (although it is usually some horrible rap/hip hop mix that makes my ears bleed-why can't people blast something like the Beatles for god's sake?).

I consider myself lucky that I only do this 2-3 times a week now, because when I did it 5 days a week I would go batty. All I ask is that these people use common sense when getting on a train.

So please, be kind to commuters.

No comments:

Post a Comment