A passenger gets on the green line inbound to Park Street. It initially appears that he is not wearing a shirt, but when he turns around I can see that he is wearing a backless orange silk dress. He strolled up and down the car offering to sell people a book about meditation (several copies of which he toted behind him in a small cart on wheels). Insofar as I was able to observe, he had no buyers.
15 July 2010
Red line, outbound:
A man steps onto the car and has nowhere to go. The car is completely full and the only place for him to stand is just out of reach of all the handles and rails which surround him. Yet he stands, not a bead of sweat forming in the uncomfortable heat, totally composed, never losing his balance, without ever using an external means of support. Even as the numbers begin to dwindle near the end of the line, he remains in his place, totally unshaken by the quickly accelerating train.
14 July 2010
Red line, inbound:
An attractive, college-aged girl sits in the last available seat in the car. The man next to her takes immediate interest and begins a flirtatious conversation which proceeds in a rather formulaic fashion. She dutifully half-nods (with occasional "uh-huh"s) at each of his statements, offering no conversational reply or eye contact. Yet he persists in talking to her until his stop. After he leaves, she looks down at her shoes for a moment before rolling her eyes and smirking sardonically.
13 July 2010
Red line, outbound:
The train lurches suddenly, sending a tall, lanky man sprawling into the passengers next to him. He turns to sheepishly apologize but does not get a response. The three passengers around him barely seem to have noticed; they stare ahead out the window or at the floor. One of them vaguely waves his hand in dismissal of the event. I don't notice when any of them get off the train.
12 July 2010
Red line, outbound:
A family—two parents, two small children—are occupying three seats. The boy is sitting on his knees looking out the window in astonishment as the world flies past him. He seems totally unconcerned with the fact that his little sister is screaming very, very loudly. His parents on the other hand are trying everything they can think of to quiet her. They sit on either side of her, talking softly in her ear. Now they're trying to figure out which of their laps would make her happy. The answer is "neither". Dad is giving up, and mom is getting frustrated. Nothing seems to be working, and the tantrum is just getting started. Yet, in the midst of all the wailing, they catch each other's glances, pause momentarily, and smile at each other.
A family—two parents, two small children—are occupying three seats. The boy is sitting on his knees looking out the window in astonishment as the world flies past him. He seems totally unconcerned with the fact that his little sister is screaming very, very loudly. His parents on the other hand are trying everything they can think of to quiet her. They sit on either side of her, talking softly in her ear. Now they're trying to figure out which of their laps would make her happy. The answer is "neither". Dad is giving up, and mom is getting frustrated. Nothing seems to be working, and the tantrum is just getting started. Yet, in the midst of all the wailing, they catch each other's glances, pause momentarily, and smile at each other.
11 July 2010
Harvard Square station:
An announcement over the loudspeaker from the driver:
"Everyone stand back from the doors. They will close momentarily and reopen after the crew has changed places. I repeat, the doors are going to reopen."
The doors close halfway and then reopen suddenly
"Please, people, just let us close the doors. We aren't going anywhere. You will still get on the train."
Another failed attempt
"Everyone stand back! You people need to learn how to listen. No one else gets on the train until the doors are closed and reopened, got it? Now step off the yellow line and wait your turn!"
The doors close, the crew changes, and the doors reopen.
"See, people?! That wasn't so hard, was it? Let's go now."
The train rolls out of the station.
An announcement over the loudspeaker from the driver:
"Everyone stand back from the doors. They will close momentarily and reopen after the crew has changed places. I repeat, the doors are going to reopen."
The doors close halfway and then reopen suddenly
"Please, people, just let us close the doors. We aren't going anywhere. You will still get on the train."
Another failed attempt
"Everyone stand back! You people need to learn how to listen. No one else gets on the train until the doors are closed and reopened, got it? Now step off the yellow line and wait your turn!"
The doors close, the crew changes, and the doors reopen.
"See, people?! That wasn't so hard, was it? Let's go now."
The train rolls out of the station.
9 July 2010
#76 Bus to Alewife:
When I board the bus, it is full—every seat taken, and place for one more to stand. In a minute or so, we stop to pick up three more. Slowly, the passengers standing in the aisle shift, turning and shuffling, finding a new place closer to the back. As if by magic, just enough space for three more people appeared up front. Minutes later, we picked up another two, then one more at the next stop, then another, then another two. At each stop, the group accepted the responsibility of shifting, each person playing his block in a gigantic moving game of commuter Tetris. And each time, the new passenger found available space.
When I board the bus, it is full—every seat taken, and place for one more to stand. In a minute or so, we stop to pick up three more. Slowly, the passengers standing in the aisle shift, turning and shuffling, finding a new place closer to the back. As if by magic, just enough space for three more people appeared up front. Minutes later, we picked up another two, then one more at the next stop, then another, then another two. At each stop, the group accepted the responsibility of shifting, each person playing his block in a gigantic moving game of commuter Tetris. And each time, the new passenger found available space.
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