Stop with all the double-booking

I was violated on the train today.

I chose to sit in one of only two sets of seats that face each other in the entire car (the rest all face forward). At most, these seats could fit 4 persons about as comfortably as three people sandwiched in the backseat of a Camaro. Translation: it’s physically possibly but highly undesirable. Metra etiquette says only 2 riders in these seats during all but the most overcrowded conditions. This morning, with the train at roughly 20% capacity and me the lone rider in either double seat, a gentleman decides not only to share my double seat, but to sit on the SAME side, e.g. right next to me. This is a major breach of protocol, and an exponential increase in the awkwardness of someone sitting diagonally across from you in these seats. The entire situation is equivalent to someone grabbing the stall immediately next to you in the bathroom, after you’ve already set up shop as sole potty proprietor (this act is commonly referred to as “double-booking”). It’s just plain bad manners.

As I write this, the seat next to us is STILL open, yet I’m forced to slouch against the window just to increase our personal space buffer a precious few additional inches. To top it off, my seat partner brought his breakfast onboard – a slightly messy and abundantly fragrant banana. Now, I’ve got nothing against bananas, and actually ate one on my way to the train station this very morning, but a banana is something to be eaten in relative seclusion. It smells too strongly and engenders discomfort tinged with disgust among fellow riders when eaten, especially when you happen to sit right next to someone as they consume it.

This train ride needs to end immediately.

Fastwalkers

I’m an admitted fastwalker. I’d conservatively rank myself in the top 5-10% of daily commuters based on average walking velocity during my trek across the Loop and back. And as a fastwalker, I know the other consistently fastwalkers pretty well (at least their faces – I haven’t conversed with any of them – that would be insane). Now, I don’t know why, but for some reason it’s amazingly irritating for me to be walking behind anyone walking equally as fast as me. You’re slow? No problem, I’ll pass you like you’re standing still. But if you’re as fast as me? We got problems. Shouldn’t matter, right? It surely does. Maybe it’s my competitive spirit. Honestly, I’ve caught myself approaching a light jog and breaking a noticeable sweat just to put a few precious millimeters in front of me and the person. Ridiculous, I know. But true. There are three people on my normal schedule that really get me to walk like an veritable crack-addict: 80’s Black Velcro Sneakers and Cassette Walkman Guy, Bow-legged Middle-aged Technology Middle-manager Guy, and Very Similar to Christian Bale in American Psycho Only Shorter Guy. I’m convinced the 4 of us will have to stage a walk-race one of these days and settle this damn thing once and for all.

Man furs

Two words from Monday’s train ride: man fur. A fellow rider decided that the meteorological conditions and style demands he was under necessitated he drag the fur coat out the closet . Trust me, I watch my fair share of Master P videos to know what passes as a cool man-fur, and this was most definitely not such a fur. A short cropped waist and practically striped combo of white, silver and dark grey pelts catapulted him into first place on the the worst commuter outwear of ‘06 charts. Hopefully the offender will stumble on this blog, realize he was out of his mind, and donate that abomination to the nearest Salvation Army.