If yelling at the woman yesterday was bad, I managed to top it today by almost getting in a scrap with an some crotchety forty-something on a downtown bound train.
When I left the house this morning I was in a pretty good mood. I left late to miss the rush and get a few more hugs in on the little guy. To my dismay, when I arrived at the station the throng of people was triple the previous day.
I start the day by listening to traffic reports on the radio – yes, I still use this archaic device every morning to gather information about the outside world before entering it. Since I hadn’t heard any reports of line ups at stations, I figured all was good.
Waiting at my station would mean an hour in the cold, so I opted to ride back a stop. This is good strategy for two reasons: One, there aren’t as many transit users at this station, and two, this station is Burnaby where people’s elbows aren’t as sharp.
My strategy worked, and after two trains passed I was heading into the city on the third. There was only one problem, I had to stop at my station.
Being the last the person to squeeze on, I was pressed up against the door. Knowing as I did that the people on this platform tend to be pushy city folk, I braced myself when the train pulled up in front of the angry throng that was jostling for position.
When the door opened nobody wanted to wait for the four people to get off for fear of loosing a coveted spot on the train, so I held them back explaining people were getting off. This caused a grumpy forty-something to start to curse at me and push forward.
Unfortunately it’s at these times when my Northern Irish blood begins to course through my veins. To scare the guy, I pushed him back and called him a jerk for not letting people off the train.
He swore back, but I could tell he was a little afraid at what would happen when I mentioned we were going to be standing side-by-side when the doors closed due to the fact we were all packed in like sardines. Being a sane and rational being, I wasn’t going to hit him. I did, however, want to throw a bit of scare into him. I thought his would make him think twice about being a jerk the next time.
As we began to move, I elbowed him a bit and he swore back. I told him to look forward to another half an hour of it. Adding to his anguish were the constant barbs he was receiving from the rather large and mildly senile senior standing behind him – I always feel better about confronting a jerk when others join in the festivities.
Thinking he was rather witty, the jerk responded by saying he was only riding one stop, a distance he could have covered by foot in the same amount of time he spent jostling to get on the train. When we stopped, he got of quickly with a few more curses for me and the old guy.I couldn’t help wondering if he did this for sport.
I wonder if I’ll see him tomorrow – the trains are supposed to be pretty crowded again.
Posted by killahmullet 