Commuter Blues

In my day, I am most reflective and contemplative during my commute to and from work. It's at these times where I can really just think, with no work or creative or personal obligations to snap at the heels of my thoughts. Unfortunately, at the very moment I can really have some great thoughts, there's people all over the damn place.

I don't know where they come from. But they are almost always in my way.Well, no, I think they are in my way, but they are not really in my way. For all I know, I am in their way. Well, no. I'm not in their way. They are definitely in mine.

The people I'm talking about are the ones waiting for the train on the platform, and when the train arrives, they stand not to the side of the door - you know, so people can get off the train - but directly in front of it. In the city the size of Chicago, with millions of people travelling to a central location every day, how do you not know that if you let people get off a train, you can get on faster? Apparently, it's possible, as every day, there's the same dead-eyed wonders standing in front of the train doors at the Clark and Lake station, seemingly unaware that people do things such as disembark.

If you're one of these people, please believe that I mean no offense. But shoot yourself. You would be doing the economy a favor - and at the moment, it needs as many favors as it can get.I'm all about structure and respect when it comes to lots of people walking around. Escalators = stand on the right, pass on the left. Like roads. Hallways = walk on the right. Like, you know, roads. Now, the people I run into in the morning are literally the people I run into in the morning. These brain stems must think that every bit of pavement is their personal Autobahn, and routinely I have to brace myself with 'football shoulder' just so I'm not knocked around like a pinball.

My three defenses: (1) Cigarette. No one will bump into you if they notice you have a small amount of fire at the end of your hand. I generally don't smoke on the street; but I do light a cigarette. (2) Cell phone. People don't like people who walk and talk on their cell phone; they are repulsed (because the conversations are always so woefully uninteresting) and so they move out of the way. If you see me on the street with my cell phone, chances are I'm not talking to anyone at all. I'm just walking in a straight line. (3) Tourist. I pretend to be a tourist sometimes, and will look up at the big ol' buildings. People won't run into you if you're looking away. Like wild animals, eye contact is a challenge to do battle. So I don't make any. So if you see a guy not smoking, not talking on his phone, or not looking at anyone, come up and say hi. I probably won't hear you, but I will appreciate the effort.

By the time I get to work or home, I am a defensive, miserable ball of neuroses. And I have forgotten all manner of contemplation or reflection that I had achieved. Like a dream after you wake up, my wisdom just fades into non-memory.

And I wonder what went wrong.