As the bus pulls away from a stop, a man begins to run down the street after it. This is no uncommon scene. However, when he catches the bus, he does not make any attempt to stop it. Instead he waves to a woman sitting near the rear exit. When she waves back, he stops running.
27 September 2010
Green line, Government Center Station:
A group of adolescents try to push their way onto an already full train. The first of about a dozen stops in front of a stroller that the rest don't see. Laughing, they start to push him forward. He objects, quietly at first, then a little louder, and finally with an outburst.
"Guys! ******! There's a ****** baby up here!"
Suddenly the mood of the horde changes. They quietly file past the mother and her child, looking at their feet. Only after they are well installed and are no longer endangering infants does their idiotic behavior resume.
26 September 2010
Red line, inbound:
The couple next to me discusses the future of a bag of sunflower seeds. Perhaps they should leave it behind. Or maybe he should hold it until they get there. Put it in this bag. Each possible solution was shot down, one by one, until he finally came up with the winning idea.
"I know, I'll wrap it in my shirt until we get outside."
He removes his shirt, wraps the bag of seeds in it, puts the bundle in a brown paper bag, and stows it under his seat. Contented, his partner offers no more resistance; this is apparently what she was searching for but could not verbalize. They ride in relative silence (and partial nudity) until I exit the train.
25 September 2010
Green line, inbound:
A very well-built man boards the train, takes an iron grip on one of the rails and spends perhaps five minutes examining the muscles in his arm. He flexes his bicep and admires it with no apparent shame. Now he is flexing each one of his fingers and studying the movement of the tendons up his arm for the movement of each one. Yet, while his interest may seem to be slightly scientific, his facial expressions reveal that his own physique impresses him very much.
23 September 2010
#66 Bus, inbound:
Today the 66 approaches an intersection and makes an unprotected left turn in the face of on-coming traffic. The "Boston Drivers" for all their fabled impatience slow down dutifully; not one of them touching their horns. This is something that happens every single day at most intersections in Boston. Everyone knows that commuter buses have eternal right-of-way.
22 September 2010
#57 bus, inbound:
I push my way through the clot of passengers who insist upon standing less than three feet from the entrance. As I do, I overhear two high school students talking.
"The next person who pushes past me, I'm gonna like [he makes a swiping motion with his elbow at face level], I swear."
"Ha! Yeah, seriously."
Three stops later, they both give up the seats they had found to the elderly couple who had just gotten on the bus. They smile politely at the thanks they receive and go back to standing in the front.
20 September 2010
Red line, Park Street Station:
When the doors open, the car I'm boarding is totally empty. I sit in the far corner on a bank of three seats with their backs to the window which face another bank of three seats across the aisle. The first occupant of the seats across from me is a single girl who sits down opposite me in the corner. Momentarily, a couple each carrying a backpack and a suitcase occupy the other two seats. They shuffle around, trying to arrange their luggage without losing anything, and end up inadvertently jostling their neighbor several times. With a huff, the first girl gets up and stomps off to the other side of the train. The girl with the suitcase looks at her, shocked, then looks at me. We break into smiles and chuckle silently across the aisle at the impatience of the recently departed. The next stop is mine. With a nod to my new friend I leave the train.
17 September 2010
Green line, outbound:
Another man boards the train with me. As I'm paying, we start to roll out of the station. When he swipes his card, a buzzer sounds indicating that its stored value is less than the fare due.
"I don't have any money," he says to the conductor. "Would you please let me slip by just this one time?"
The train operator apologizes and informs the man that he will have to get off the train at the next stop. The man offers no further plea or excuse. He exits the train several stops before he intended to.
16 September 2010
#57 bus, inbound:
A couple sits perpendicular to each other, she on a seat facing the side wall, and he facing the front of the bus. The woman has an elaborate tattoo covering one arm, a man who has been shot in the leg with an arrow bearing a colored banner that says "Esperanza". With her other arm, she reaches across the gap and grabs the hand of her companion, who is sitting holding leftovers from a meal in a styrofoam box. Neither looks at the other for my entire trip. They both look past each other, out their respective windows, hanging on to each other's hands.
15 September 2010
#57 bus, inbound:
A man boards the bus with some difficulty. He struggles to get a stroller with his daughter on board and around the many occupants who stand immovable, with characteristic selfishness. For her part, the man's daughter is enjoying the trip. She leans forward eagerly and energetically waves hello to every passenger with whom she makes eye contact.
13 September 2010
#66 bus, inbound:
A man boards the bus while on the phone. As he sits down, he loudly announces to the person on the other line that the seats on the bus are blue. The woman in front of him gets a strange look on her face, does a full, slow, 180-degree turn to look him in the eyes for about three seconds. Her face displays a combination of confusion, sarcasm, and derision. The man returns her gaze with no apparent effort and continues talking to his friend. He exits the bus several stops later still talking on the phone.
10 September 2010
#57 bus, outbound:
The girl sitting next to me receives a phone call. She has a peculiar accent that I can't place and she speaks with impeccable grammar. The man on the other end of the line is named Ken. He lives in Rhode Island and today is his birthday. He wants the girl to come down and visit him, but she has other plans in mind.
"I would, you know, but I can't. You see, my friend here in Boston is leaving town to go back to London tomorrow and, well he's from London and you're from Rhode Island..."
She left it hanging. The conversation ended quickly thereafter.
9 September 2010
#66 bus, outbound:
The bus is crowded and noisy enough that I have to end my phone conversation prematurely. At a stop two blocks further, twelve twenty-somethings exit the bus talking and joking. Their departure makes it painfully clear that they were the source of almost all the noise. However, the sudden and contrasting silence is so forceful that no other passenger attempts to break it. Apart from extremely brief, necessary communication, the next ten stops go by without a word spoken.
8 September 2010
Green line, outbound:
Because above ground stops require one to pay at a single kiosk at the front of the train, every boarding passenger must enter through the same door. Unlike bus people, train people don't seem to have a sense of who is getting on the train. Today, I am forced so close to neighboring passengers that I am almost constantly in physical contact with them. Yet, over their shoulders, I can see that the vast majority of the aisle in the rest of the train is empty. However, the two people at the far end of our clump refuse to make their way down the two stairs that lead to the rest of the train, thereby forcing the rest of us to squish together. Only after the train conductor stops the train, turns around, and yells do they apparently notice the available space and fill it in. We collectively breath a sigh of relief and follow suit.
7 September 2010
#57 bus, outbound:
A woman and her husband fight to find space for their two suitcases. Eventually they have to split up, he standing in the very front with one and she in the back with the other. The bus driver is weaving through traffic with near-reckless abandon, now honking his horn at two pedestrians who try to cut across him, now slamming on his breaks to avoid hitting a car that suddenly pulled out from a parallel parking spot. The passengers jolt forward and backward, grabbing on to rails, sometimes colliding with a neighbor. Only at the end of the trip do I notice an infant in a stroller, sound asleep. For the last two stops I watch her. She never opens her eyes, never flinches, and continues sleeping soundly until I exit the bus.
6 September 2010
Green line, inbound:
A man finishes his phone conversation with a significant other not only by making kissing sounds into the microphone, but by physically kissing it for several seconds. He hangs up, resumes rational behavior, and looks out the window.
4 September 2010
Green line, inbound:
A woman separates herself from her husband due to the sudden opening of a seat further away. She persists in continuing their conversation by yelling across the dozen-or-so other passengers between them. Now she spends perhaps three minutes reading an advertisement to him and explaining why she thinks it is funny. However, the lack of context makes it almost entirely impossible to understand what she means. Her husband smiles quietly at her description, but obviously has no idea what she's saying. Eventually, they are reunited and peace is once again restored to the car.
3 September 2010
#66 Bus, outbound:
As I board the bus, three girls each wearing a brightly colored t-shirt and carrying a suitcase walk past the door. The bus slowly moved through traffic, making its way up Harvard Avenue and eventually winding around to Allston. At most of the stops, when we pulled over to pick up new passengers, the girls passed the door before we left. In other words, during rush hour, the bus travels roughly at the speed of a group of luggage-carrying girls.
2 September 2010
Green line, inbound:
A man standing in the aisle removes his headphones to talk to a friend who unexpectedly boarded the same train. At the same moment, a British woman immediately behind him looks at her travelling companion as says (voice dripping with mock rudeness), "Move over!" The man, thinking she was talking to him simultaneously looks over his shoulder and shuffles away from her. She delivers an embarrassed apology. Meanwhile, the stream of boarding passengers has pushed the two friends far enough apart that they cannot converse. They look at each other and shrug. The man replaces his headphones and begins nodding, almost imperceptibly, to the beat.
1 September 2010
#66 Bus to Commonwealth Avenue:
When it's hotter than 90°F, Bostonians hide from the sun. At each stop, as the bus approached, people come out from under trees, from behind bushes, and even in one case from behind a telephone pole where they were waiting in relative comfort for their bus to arrive.
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