Riding Metro North. With Leaner.

Posted on by Live & Learn

Claustrophobia_I_by_RGreene

The mercury tipped 27° F.
It’s the fifth day of Spring. Spring. Right.

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. (Dickens)

The only thing Dickens got right in this passage was the book title: Great Expectations, and mine for the weather.

It was one of those March days when the sun doesn’t shine at all and the wind blows cold: when it is winter in the light, it is winter in the dark and it is winter in the shade. (DK)

It’s 5:45 am. I’m standing on the platform with a handful of others.  The remaining commuters wait for the 5:57 train in the warming station.

But not me. No Sir. I refuse to cede my place at the front of the not-yet-formed line.  Close to memory are my last two rides — unable to find a seat, I stood the entire 55 minute ride. Technical correction: there was an unwillingness, a steadfast refusal to sit in the middle seat.  Just not an option. I need my space.

I board the train. I’m the first on, my wait paying off.  I find an empty two-seater and sit next to the window. I settle in and start into the morning papers.  The warm air from a vent caresses my feet and legs. It’s going to be a good day.

The train pulls into the first stop.  A crowd piles in. A commuter spots my empty seat, rushes to claim it, and then falls heavily into the seat. A middle aged man.  5’10.”  With a nicely developed pooch.

He settles in.
He spreads his legs.
He crosses his arms and rests them on his belly.
He closes his eyes and falls asleep.

His right leg leans on my left. Firmly.
His arms, formerly crossed, now unravel and tumble to his sides.
His right arm leans on my left. Heavily.

I neglected to take off my coat at boarding, anxious to stake my seat.
The heat, so soothing at boarding, is now blowing, Hot.
I shift in my seat and nudge him ever so slightly.

He twists in his seat, restless.  He lifts his arms, re-crosses them back over his belly.
I secure partial relief.
His right leg continues to lean. Heavily.
I check my watch, 35 minutes to Grand Central.

The train hits a rough patch of tracks.
His arms unravel. Tumble down.  His right falling, and leaning on my left. Heavily.
The vent continues to blow. Hot.
The rail car is silent, but for the clickety-clack.

I’m unable to focus on my papers.
I glance left, his eyes are shut, his mouth is wide open, he’s breathing and snore-less.
Sweat droplets stream down my back.
I wipe my brow.
Where’s the A/C?
I shift in my seat again trying to elicit movement. I’m unsuccessful.
I shift again, this time aggressively.
He lifts his arms, re-crosses and resets, but his legs remain apart and leaning. Firmly.

I close my eyes and stare into the pitch black darkness of my eyelids. I inhale, and slowly exhale.  10 years ago, you would have rolled this guy right out of his seat. Today, not so much. Are you pleased with the tolerance Gandhi or angry at the passivity Rambo?

We arrive at Grand Center.
He’s startled by the conductor’s call.
He jumps out of his seat, grabs his backpack and darts out of the car.

The cool air rushes in through the door from the underground tunnels.
I sit for a moment.  I dig into my case, find my smartphone, twist in my earbuds and search for Olafur Arnaulds.

I need Icelandic, ice blue and cooling.

I walk off the empty train, button up my coat and head for the station exit.

Game time.

Notes: Photography (Claustrophobia I) by rgreene. Related Posts: Riding Metro North Series.

28 thoughts on “Riding Metro North. With Leaner.”

  2. Sometimes I wish I could take the train to work. After reaqding this story, I’m not so sure.

    My day…left NJ at 0645…27 degrees. Arrive, SC, 11.5hrs later…76 degrees.…768 miles, only three stops, a large thermos of coffee, sandwiches (made lovingly by mom), two cigars and Sirius radio. All by myself.

    Tomorrow….back in the saddle.

  3. Being first doesn’t seem to get you where you want to be, David, in your space. You need to fine tune your strategy. Develop options for changing scenarios. And take it from there. But I don’t recommend reviving Rambo.

  5. Great writing. Honestly, Im beginning to believe you have a sticker on your head “Pick me!!!” Still, lucky you do, otherwise we would all miss out on such entertaining travel stories about your daily life. 🙂 Maybe lie across the sit next time Rambo.

  6. Little did this guy know that he was leaning into the mountain…it’s immoveable and not particularly inclined to adjust. You did well all things considered pal..and again, you made my day with your writing..

  8. You have just described a level of Hell for me. As a large person, I’m well aware that I slop over into the next seat, and end up in cramps as I try to keep my thighs to myself. When someone like Mr. Pooch sits next to me, that gives me permission to LET GO. If he’s leaning, so am I and we reach a truce. Delicious release!

  9. Cringing and smirking. I’m trying to imagine my way out of that position and all I can think of are the droplets of sweat running down your back. I mean- what do you say, after you say, “Uh- excuse me friend, you’re on me.” LOL!! I really enjoy our trips to work with you. Face planting, salt crunching, Olafur streaming, large man infringing fun 🙂

  12. i’m going to say that by being there in place early and getting your ideal seat, and what you felt you needed and were entitled to, by your own sense of justice, you soon learned that it was not all it was cracked up to be, at least as you had imagined it in your mind’s eye. a good life’s lesson.

  14. Oh my gosh, I am so enjoying catching up with your wonderful writing. Your sufferings are familiar to me so why do they make me smile so much? I don’t feel too guilty though because I think that this is the effect you’re going for. Or am I making dangerous assumptions?

    1. And what a wonderful feeling to see the “Likes” flashing across. Thanks so much for following and for the kind words Sarah. Welcome back.

      You shouldn’t feel guilty, that’s exactly the effect I’m going for. 🙂

Leave a Reply