January 11, 2009

Rush Hour on the DC Metro. Photo by andrew.deci via Flickr.

You’ve captured the DC Metro commute perfectly. I don’t do it often, and avoid it when I can, but I’ve taken the Metro at rush hour.

Interesting story though — and I respect you for being so honest in your retelling.

Great story, Jeff! I admire your transparency in recounting an experience that you could have more easily left untold and unknown. Many can empathize with your discomfort after the fact.

My main experience with the Métro is in Paris, France (as you can tell by the use of the accent mark.) It was interesting to note differences and similarities. One big difference is that the unwritten code in Paris is to wait until most of those exiting have done so before anyone tries to get on. I don’t know how crowded the Metro is in D.C., but in Paris it’s not for those who cannot abide having their personal space invaded! (The cliché - can of sardines - comes immediately to mind.) That could be part of the reason for the protocol I mentioned - no one could possibly get on sometimes unless someone got out. Another difference is the concept of the “special seat” - it’s a happy day if one can ever find an unoccupied seat.

One huge similarity is the almost total absence of interaction. People avoid eye contact, speaking between fellow travelers is generally in whispers if done at all, and most have some means of distraction to keep themselves isolated - a newspaper, a paperback book, an iPod, a hat to pull down over the eyes, etc.

Do you think you will try to tell your “that man” that your perceptions were off and that you spoke precipitously? Who knows, you could end up with a new friend who shares more in common with you than you’ve already noted. :-) Our first few exchanges were on the adversarial end of the spectrum, but we now keep in regular contact willingly and care about what’s happening in each other’s lives. Just a thought…. This story could end up with a happy sequel. :-)

I hate that people can’t seem to grasp the idea that if they let the people on the train off, then there will be more room for them! Crazy.

Okay, so he didn’t physically push but his energy was ‘pushing’.

I like what Rob says in your comments. This post of your astute hindsight tells me that the story could develop even more with a more formal introduction to your Professor Henry Walton Jones [aka Indiana Jones].

However, I’m impressed that you remember him, you notice him, recall him, and even the others. This feat of sociological behavior is something I always wonder how many other denizens exercise. I’d be surprised if he’d remember that moment in time if’n you mentioned it to him. I believe the majority of our commuting herds don’t even remember the person they’re looking at.

Many times, I’m thankful for the faces blending into one another and becoming another blur of a day. Yet, more often than not, I want us to walk away from each day remembering at least one stranger a day, if only to remember where we are.

Keep remembering.

William, I am a born observer. And the Metro is like a petri dish when it comes to watching human nature unfold each day.

The man I was observing in this story was definitely not the Indiana Jones type. Jones’ character is calm and collected in the most extreme situations. My character, on the other hand, was anything but just waiting to board the train.

I’m not really interested in pursuing any kind of a further relationship with this man. The story was a study of his character (and mine, I suppose). And I don’t think our personalities would mesh.

For some reason I had gotten the image of him “looking like” Indiana Jones because of the wide-brimmed leather hat.

The brim was much wider than Indiana Jones’. So wide it was almost floppy. He also wore thick glasses (which, of course, made him look more studious than hero-like).