Sardines

Well, I can't seem to catch up on things lately, including by blog posts. But skipping everything I was going to write and old drafts, I'm going to report on this morning's adventure.



First, let me preface that my daily commute is quite pleasent - lot's of reading and knitting and puzzles and listening to old NPR podcasts get accomplished. I'm on one of the more civilized lines.



But today, I was hoping to catch the bus that would bring me to the end of the subway line, therefore ensuring a seat. No such luck, it was too cold to wait for such a bus and so I took the first one that arrived. It brought me through slow traffice to a subway stop which was several stops further down the line. I get down to the platform and even though there was a train waiting there, the platform was packed with people too. Unusual. There had been an incident at the next stop delaying traffic. So I don't bother trying to squeeze in on an already full train, but wait for the next one that soon arrives. But even this one is fairly packed, but I'm late getting into work so no more waiting. I squeeze on and am packed in like a sardine (we didn't need the people pusher's like in Japan - above, we did it all on our own).



So that would be a good story on its own. It's something out of the ordinary in my daily routine, it provided comradery amongst the strangers you were sharing your breathing space with, it has elements of the weather worked into it. But no, the funny part was that we get to the next stop, the doors open, people try to squeeze out, more people try to squeeze in. We move on to the following stop, and.... nothing, our doors don't open. But sometimes they are delayed, but not this time, after a few minutes the train starts moving again - on to the next stop. People start to talk now. Some had needed to get out. This isn't good. There's some talk that we might end up having a very long train ride to the other end (which is way down south of the city - far). But no worries, there is always the next stop. We arrive, we see movement. Others are exiting and entering the train in the other subway cars. It appears ours is the one that is broken and noone knows. We move on to the next stop. The talking gets louder people start shouting to use the intercom. Wild comments are thrown out. We finally get in touch with the conductor (is that what they are called?) and he asks a simple question of which car are you in. Of course there is a plethora of responses, the funniest of which is "god knows" and "the one whose doors are broken". Some numbers are shouted out. And soon thereafter, the doors, with a heavy sigh, release and half the people tumble out.



All this while, I'm trying to read a report that is literally inch (not inches) an inch away from my nose, while not banging the ladies head in front of me with the papers as I turn the pages. The saving grace was that it wasn't an overheated car (sometimes the case in winter) so was quite a pleasent little adventure all in all. And really, not that much of a delay for me as I didn't have to retrace my steps (I still had two stops to go).



So that was my morning. We'll see how the rest of the day plays out!