Entering the train car, we scout out for perfect seats. Window seat, door seat, leaning and looking out the window as a way to escape – for meeting eyes with others creates an unwanted sense of intimacy. Afraid to make the first move, but daring to take quick glances out of curiosity or instantaneous attraction.
A row of empty seats is heaven to the mind after a long day. Why share when it can be all my own? Purses and bags take up another seat, put there to create more space for oneself, or to ward off others of sitting beside.
The first occupant on this train other than me is a woman with curly brown hair and red lipstick on. It seems as though she is ready for a day out with friends, but most likely is just getting off work. She chooses the seat closest to the door, with her back leaning against the plastic divider.
She crosses her legs at the ankles and lays her bag onto the seat beside her, seemingly owning that corner of seats for the time being. She then shows her reflective white nails while she takes a call in a hushed tone – probably to maintain a sense of privacy in this already public space. She gets up to leave after a few stops have passed.
The second occupant is a rough-shaven old man who sits in the same seat as the woman before. Slouched over as if some weight bears down on him and legs stretched out into the aisle, he seems to be seeking comfort in these cold plastic seats. Shifting to and fro, he finds a comfortable position leaning against the plastic divider between him and the train door.
He swings his backpack onto the seat beside him, a protective arm hanging over his belongings. A past experience of losing things or a desire to keep in his possession what he has earned, I am not sure. But his eyes have a significant weight to them as he stares out the window, for there are more fascinating things to be seen than inside this train car. He gets off downtown.
In a nearly empty train, it is more spacious, literally and spiritually. On these trains, we are more likely to be outgoing, talk on the phone at a normal volume, and be less protective of our belongings. When offered a seat to hold our belongings or space to stretch out our legs, we unwind and accept that offer.
Other occupants also seem to be in their own worlds as well. A woman near me is wearing sunglasses indoors. I do not know if it is there to be a fashion statement or to save face in a public place. She is in tune with her music, as her feet taps away at the air and ground, wishing to make a beat audible to those around.
Across from me, two friends talk about their day, including vehement hand gestures of expression to variation in tone and pitch. They speak at a normal volume, not caring if they are overheard by others.
When the train is full, best choices are already taken, and we resort to the least attractive option: sitting next to someone. Confined and afraid to invade another’s space, we squish ourselves into the manufactured, calculated, box of a seat. Rubbing elbows or thighs is imminent, with a response just like sea coral: retraction.
And that’s exactly what it’s like during rush hour.
The atmosphere shifts. What once was open language of outstretched legs and slouched backs turn into tensed arms and scrunched shoulders. Our belongings are held closer to our body as a symbol of protection.
Business suits and dresses mixed in with casual styles, one of the few places where inter-generational mingling can happen. From dyed hair of brown, blonde, and light blue brushed to the side as it becomes an obstruction to view to piercings that reflect the LED lights of the train. Both arts of expression to fulfill one’s identity.
Exhaustion after a long day of work is showing. What started as a crisp, unwrinkled shirt is untucked and unkempt. Slouching, both in those sitting and standing, are noticed, for laying on top of the backpack is less effort than caring for a straight back. Face against the top of a backpack, shielded by arms crossed at the elbows. Security and tiredness portrayed in one movement.
And don’t even get me started on train delays.
Author’s Note: This description was inspired by “A-Z Writing Inspirations” that was a part of the Creative Writing class. This was the prompt that started this entry:
B IS FOR BEAUTY SALON
What to do there: Write about bodies and body language. Write about different parts of the body and how they are treated: nails, hair, body hair, the face. Notice how people touch each other and avoid touching. Write about what people do to their bodies and have done to them. Follow one person and record what they do. Later, rewrite this as a set of actions or instructions to an understudy. For an example of how it’s done, read Jamaica Kincaid’s story ‘Girl’.
Image:
AWC Pictures. “Hankook Tires Bus Handle.” AWCPictures, 14 Sept. 2009, www.awcpictures.com/tag/subway-handles.
