The Morning Commute…

Planet Rossco
Aug 24, 2017 · 21 min read

I look at myself in the bathroom mirror for the fifth time. I look good, at least I think I look good, but something about my appearance doesn’t feel right.

My white Ben Sherman collared shirt looks good. My gray Ben Sherman sweater compliments it, especially the way the white collar pops out of the top of the neck of the sweater. So, what is it? My hair perhaps? It looks okay, well, looks the best it can considering it has to be a week and a half since it last saw any shampoo…

The Pants!

I take a look at myself in the full body mirror that sits behind the wardrobe door.

Is it my pants? They have a slight navy tone to them, are they clashing with my sweater or my shoes? I ask myself, trying to figure it out as I stare at my shoes and sweater.

I pull my phone out of my navy work pants pocket: 7:38 am.

‘Shit!’ I’ll miss my train, the train that guarantees me a seat!

What is more important Simon, looking as perfect as you can or getting a seat for the thirty-minute train ride to the city?

I stop to consider my two options. A seat on the train wins.

I throw my Lacoste laptop brown leather satchel over my shoulder. I filled up my leather satchel earlier in the morning with all my essentials for the day, mainly my wallet, headphones, work laptop and my iPhone cord to charge my phone, as it usually needs some electricity calories before lunch, and of course, a banana.

I swipe my houses keys off the kitchen bench and head for the door. Half way through opening the door, it dawns on me… I haven’t ‘manfumed,’ by far the most important chore of the morning, and I have to smell good for the day! I let the front door shut on its own as I race back up the stairs of my studio apartment and into my bedroom.

I’ll happily admit I own a collection of ‘manfumes’, the young Simon in me would be looking at my collection of ‘manfumes’ I now use and would be rolling his eyes, but hey, if it helps with the ladies, I’m sure the younger version of myself would be cool with my collection of Calvin Klein’s to Davidoff’s.

It looks cold outside, might be a good day for Davidoff ‘Cool Water’. I never actually mastered the art of spraying ‘manfume,’ just a few sprays to the neck seem to suffice.

Back out the front door…

I make my way down the street toward the train station. There is a light morning chill to the air, and the sky is pure blue, no clouds and I suspect the winters day will get warm as the sun does its duty.

I make my way up the steep hill that leads to the station. I can feel my underarms beginning to sweat, a common occurrence most mornings on my morning commute, regardless of how cold it is.

I can see the station; The platform looks crowded. I can see people piling toward the station from every direction. A mix of men in suits, women in heels, students with backpacks and matching uniforms, one guy with dyed blue hair is carrying a skateboard. I wait for a few cars to pass so I can cross the street to the station. I notice a nicely dressed woman ahead of me begin to hurry her pace to the station, does she know that our train with a guaranteed seat is almost approaching, or does she just want to make sure she will get that train?

Another guy ahead of me begins to hurry his pace. I cross the street, and I look up along the tracks as best I can before my view is cut off by some trees. No train, no sound of a train. I should be fine.

I reach the stairs that tower over the tracks and eventually make their way to the platform. I now get a good sense of the crowd beneath me waiting for the train. The platform is packed, perhaps more so than every other morning, or maybe by this time I am already part of the crowd, and I don’t notice the numbers. It takes an aerial view, like the one I get on top of the stairs, to appreciate the volume of morning commuters.

I look along the track, I see the train, it is arriving at the station. It feels like it just appeared from nowhere. I guess that lady and man who were rushing knew, maybe they saw it in the distance, perhaps they are in tune with the train line.

The train doors open, people begin loading themselves on for the journey to the city, no one is getting off. I make my way down the stairs to the platform. I could rush, I should rush down the stairs, this is my train, and I can see plenty of available seats. Do I want to rush though, do I want to be one of those people? I’ll just play it cool, if the train doors are still open when I reach the bottom of the stairs, then I’ll jump on, if they close, well I will just get the next train. Hopefully, the doors remain open.

I reach the bottom of the stairs just as the train doors close. I feel like I am the only one left on the platform, but that’s ok, I’ll play it cool. I am not in that much of a rush to get to work.

I’ll just wait for the next train.

My usual train pulls away from the station. I watch it leave, and I see empty seats scattered through each carriage as it passes me. Never mind, I will get the next train, they are quite regular this time of the morning, and surely the next train will have plenty of seats like the one I just missed.

Within minutes, no, within seconds the platform has refilled with commuters. I think I must have had this side of the platform to myself for maybe ten seconds. Where do they all come from? I find myself standing next to a group of male school students. Some are taller than me, and others could fit in their backpacks, some have more facial hair than me! How do they achieve that? I try for solid few months to grow a mustache and all I can grow are a few twisted short hairs…

Most others on the platform are either occupied with the headphones either in or covering their ears. Others have their faces down staring at their phone screen. I keep my phone and earbuds secured in my pocket until I find a seat on the train, nothing annoys me more than people who walk around staring at their phones… What’s so important they need to stare at their phone and not focus on where they are walking? Snapchat or Instagram I assume, Tinder maybe?

The next train approaches, everyone rallies themselves forward. They all know exactly where the train will pull up and where each entry point to the train carriage will be. I have no idea. I just follow others, I haven’t learned that skill yet. Sometimes I try to guess my position, so I am standing in front of the train door as it pulls up, but I always fail. So, I will just follow others. The train pulls up, and sure enough, the groups of people lining up for the train got their positions 100% correct.

I look into the train carriage that has pulled up in front of me. My heart sinks, I want to say, ‘For fuck’s Sake’ out loud, but I reframe. The train carriage is packed. All seats taken, the entry section to the carriage is filled with people standing already, and there must be about twenty of us lining up to board this carriage, I lean back at the end of the line, curious to see if the next carriage is just as crowded as this one, it is.

A few people leave this line-up to join the line-up further down the platform, but what they found down there must be bad, as it is not long before they re-join this us.

We board. We all perform the slow zombie paced shuffle, the kind of walk where you feel as though you aren’t getting anywhere, but you are, just ever so slowly. I am one of the last to board, from what I can see all seats are taken along with all the best standing spots. All the poles and railings have hands gripping to them so they can keep their balance for when the train moves, a few brave souls stand in the middle with no direct access to a pole or a rail to hold on to, they must have great balance.

The staircase to the upper-level carriage, it is empty. That is me I say to myself. I will take my stance on the stairs. I’m not entirely sure what the etiquette is regarding being allowed to stand on the stairs, but I have no other options. I need some space around me for my morning commute. Stairs it is.

I take position almost at the top of stairs. People are standing up the middle of the upper carriage, and every seat has a soul in it. I look down to my entry point to the carriage, people standing in every spot, looking at those in a seat enviously. I cannot remember the last time I had seen a train so full, maybe never. Ten stops to the city, surely the train can’t get any more crowded than this. I am happy with my spot on the stairs. I have a good lean going on. My satchel is positioned by my side, easily maneuverable in case I need to adjust my position for anyone needing to use the stairs. This should be fine. I can do this for the trip to the city.

I reach into my pocket, and I pull out my iPhone and my earbuds, I go into my phone and open up the music app. What to listen to? Daft Punk I think would suit the mood today. I search through the app for my Daft Punk playlist, I place each earbud into my respective ears, and press play — The beat to ‘Too Long’ kicks in, it beats nicely to the train as it passes over the rail way below. Ok, thirty minutes will fly by.

The train pulls up at the next station, and this station is even more crowded. No way these people can fit on this train, they must look at how crowded it is already and surely, they will decide to wait for the next train. Nope, they all pile on. The carriage feels like my underwear drawer, it’s only a small drawer, but I fill it with all my underwear’s and pairs of odd socks, I just want to fill it and close the drawer, so I don’t have to deal with a mess of clothes on my bedroom floor. But I know next time I open that drawer, it will not only be a struggle to open, but it will be a struggle to find what I want. This carriage is beginning to feel like my underwear drawer. Overloaded.

A guy with large green headphones beelines for my stairs. ‘No piss off, these are my stairs’ I say to myself.

I have a nice space buffer zone on these stairs, and this space is not for you or anyone else. Green headphones pass me. He makes his way to the top carriage. Perhaps he was expecting to find a seat, but the ten-people standing in the upper carriage would have been assurance that there are no spare seats. Green Headphones takes a position on top of the stairs. I drop down a step on the stairs, just to increase my buffer zone.

The train powers on to the next station.

Ok, that must be it surely. This carriage cannot accept any more commuters. We are filled to the brim, apart from a couple of extra spots on the stairs, there is no room. I look down at the standing room near the carriage doors. Everyone are standing shoulder to shoulder, no need to hold on to poles or rails as there isn’t even any room to fall over.

Everyone is immersed in their phones. I can’t say I blame them, anything to distract them from this overcrowding nightmare.

We pull up at the next station, even more people than the last, all waiting to line up to get on to this train. I look at the other commuters already standing in this carriage, they look out to the platform in as much disbelief as I, they know this next load of bodies will not fit on this carriage. But, it does not stop them. They all worm their way in, almost like it is a real-life game of Tetris, but no one can make a perfect row to clear some the line. The body shapes just keep increasing until the carriage reaches breaking point which cannot be far off.

I do not want to admit it, but I know deep down that my buffer zone on the stairs is about to come to an end.

People board the train, and I notice some faces rolling their eyes, so many faces I can’t even remember which ones rolled their eyes.

Eyes, I see a set look at me on the stairs, more importantly at the space around me, I’m sure they think it is a perfect Tetris position for their body. Soon enough I am climbing the steps of the stairs to make room for the humans taking residence on my section of the carriage. The empty spaces fill quickly. Another person takes a position, then another and another. Two friends, they look identical. They are young, not in school uniform but they look as though they are dressed the same. Two guys must be about twenty years old. Pals, but more interested in their phones. Only interacting with one another to show them something on their phone screen.

I lean back. One hand on the satchel, the other perfectly straight down by my side. Nowhere else to put it. ‘Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger’ kicks in through my ear buds, good timing, even if I wanted to reach in my pocket to change the song I couldn’t, not without bumping the two friends standing in front of me.

The trains continues.

That cramped, claustrophobic feeling takes over, and I close my eyes, I take a quiet in-depth and profound breath. Ok, Simon, only about twenty more minutes. The train has reached capacity, just deal with this for twenty minutes. You will be at your work desk soon enough, fresh coffee in hand and all will be ok.

I can feel the warmth increase throughout the carriage from all the combined body heat. Beads of sweat have begun to drip down my back. I would love to take my sweater off, just to cool myself down a couple of degrees, but accomplishing that feat would be ‘mission impossible.’ I even consider just getting off at the next station, just to get some breathing space and try my luck on the next train.

I look over to some of the people seated on the upper carriage. I see the back of a girl, and her black hair is done up in two buns, Sailor Moon style! Strands of long black hair deliberately slipped out of the buns and dangled down her neck. Her skin is brown and smooth, and I can see the side of her face, she has nicely shaped eyeliner, I try to lift myself up to stand taller, on my tippy toes. I notice she is wearing a loose-fitting top and I can see the top of her cleavage. Ok, I say to myself, maybe I can handle this crowded trip for a bit longer.

We approach the next station. I know this station well. It is a busy a station, and I don’t think I have ever been here without the station been crowded. My only hope is that a lot of people decide to get off at this station, and not many want to get on… Wishful thinking.

A few people get out of their seats to get off at this next station, and their vacated seats are swooped upon without a blink. Two people shuffle their way through the upper carriage toward me on the stairs. I cannot do much apart from lean back on the rail, tuck my feet, hold my satchel next to me and hope I have allowed enough room for these two people pass. The first person, a man in a suit wearing sunglasses hobbles pass me, his elbow brushes across my stomach, the touch seemed to of lingered longer than it should have, I didn’t like it. I look at the man, and I give him a disapproving stare, he doesn’t even notice or care. I turn back to the next person passing me, an older lady, just as I turn to look at her, I get a face full of her shoulder. She is wearing a thick cotton wind sheeter, and I can almost taste the clothes washing powder she used on the last wash as the material from her clothing rubs across my face and mouth, maybe OMO?

I don’t even stare my disgust at her, I just take another slow breath, control my nerves and ignore it all.

Eighteen minutes to go.

We pull up at the next station. The platform is crowded, hundreds of people lining up to get on. Our carriage ejects about eight passengers, but we must take on about twenty-five more. They manoeuvrer for room where they can. No room on these stairs, so the new arrivals stay away. I notice at the other end of the upper carriage people have ventured on board, it has caused those standing in the middle of the row to shuffle back toward where I stand. No, fuck off. No room back here. No space, stay where you are. Nope, they continue shuffling backward. I want to back up down the stairs, but I am blocked by more bodies. I’m stuck, and I cannot move. My stance is awkward, one leg is standing on a step, and the other is standing on the one below. I try to shift my weight to get comfortable. It doesn’t work. I shift my waist to try and better my position, the slightest few inches I was allowed to move achieved nothing.

Then, like a slap in the face, I am greeted with a man’s butt. Perfectly situated at my eye level. A few inches from my face. The man is on top of stairs but is leaning back on the lowered roof above me, which means his bulky butt is within iPhone distance from my face. One bump in the train ride and I could be met with a face full of out-of-shape ass.

The two friends who are sharing the space on the stair case with me notice the closeness of the sizeable butt to my face. They smile, they may be letting out a chuckle at the impending doom to my face. I don’t want to look at them, and I certainly do not want to look at ugly rear-end.

Why couldn’t it have been a women’s nicely shaped ass? That girl with the Sailor Moon hair, I bet she would have a nice butt, why couldn’t it have been hers. She is now well out of view. My only piece of sanity on this train has gone.

I close my eyes, I want to take a deep breath in again, but I am afraid of what I will breathe in.

Fifteen minutes to go.

I stare straight ahead, I try and ignore my surroundings, I want to ignore them, but it is hard. I think to the future, anytime in the future where I am not on this train. I turn my head back down to the doors of the carriage. Not to look at the people, but just to be looking in the opposite direction to the butt which is jiggling with the movements of the train. Daft Punk are still blaring in my ears, but deep down I can hear the jiggles of the bottoms movement, yuck!

I look down at the passenger’s standing, trying to cope and deal with the crowds. Most are engrossed in their phones, dreaming of better times then the unrelenting gathering they are currently are part of right now.

Next station, a few get off, a couple gets on. A few more want to board the train, but they soon realise that feat is unobtainable, finally. The train leaves the station. People try and shuffle a bit to take a new position. I try to do the same. I feel a tingling in my right foot, the foot that is resting on the lower step. I try to move it, make sure the blood flow does its thing. The tingling stops.

I close my eyes.

Must be only about ten minutes left. Ten minutes of claustrophobic hell, but I can deal, things could be worse.

Just as I say that to myself. The train shoves itself along the track, coping with the overcrowded load it is hauling, almost as if it was trying to load a web page but was lagging due to an unstable internet connection, then within in an instant the page loads, just like the train, in an instant it receives some energy and works over time in pushing itself along the tracks. The jarring motions pushes everyone forward. It pushes me as I stand on the stairs. It pushes me forward, directly into the overweight man’s derriere… My face takes in the left butt cheek, the only thing stopping direct skin on skin contact was the man’s cotton slacks and hopefully a pair of underpants. My face rolls across the cheek. I can feel the looseness of his butt-cheek. My slightly open mouth rubs against the bottom, my wet lips leave a mark on his pants. I block out what I feel, what I see, what I taste. I transport my conscious to another dimension, as far away as it can get from this train and this jiggling butt.

I lean back into my position, regaining my composure from the trains sudden jolt. I look up at the butt man, he obviously felt my face rub against his cheek, he may have even felt my wet lips, but he doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t look down, surely, he knew what just touched him, violated him. Maybe he is as embarrassed as I am, maybe he too has transported himself to another dimension, trying to escape the horde on this carriage.

I can hear some snickering. The two friends must have seen it. Actually, I am guessing all the people standing below me saw it. I look directly ahead. I do not want to make eye contact with anyone. I don’t want to confirm my fear that everyone saw what just happened.

‘Argh fuck,’ when is this nightmare over.

I can finally see the city in the distance, never thought I would enjoy seeing the city on my morning weekday commute as much as I enjoy the view right now. The city indicates that this incubus is almost over, almost, at an end. Finally. My only goal, apart from not going insane, is not to get another mouth full of the saggy bottom.

We approach the first of three busy city train stations. My stop is the second. But it is this first station that worries me. I know the train, and this carriage will empty out half of its occupants at the first city station. I start to look around on where I can position myself best without getting in the way of the people wanting to use the stairs to get off at the approaching stop.

I see people get up out of their seats, the people standing also get ready to move, a lot of people getting ready to depart at this station. I look around the train near to where I stand, I consider all my possibilities, which are extremely limited, to where I can stand and move to make myself a less of an encumbrance.

The evacuators are approaching me, a few eyes stare at me, almost as if they are telling me that I am in their way, I want to point around the train and just ask them where exactly I can move to. I overly lean back on the stairs, I want it to be known that I am trying, I hold back my leather satchel that dangles next to my waist. I even suck in my stomach.

The people start making their way down the stairs as we approach the first busy city station. A bit of an opening has been created on top of the stairs, and I gun for it. If I can stand there, then I can get out of the way of the stairs. The man with the butt makes his way down the stairs and past me, we avoid making eye contact, but we both know what happened, and It is clear we both want to move on from that event.

I position myself behind a suit who is also standing. Next to me is a single train seat occupied by a young lady. People continue to unload from the train. The young lady gets up from her seat. Her vacated seat is like a bright light shining into my eyes.

I do not think twice, and I don’t even stop to consider if the suit was looking to take the seat. I plonk myself into it. The seat is warm from the young lady.

It feels good to be off my feet. My next stop is maybe only two minutes away.

I don’t care… The nightmare is finally over… I rest and take in a good minute or so of sitting time.

The train approaches my station. The carriage is still relatively full. It would appear the remaining souls are getting off with me. I feel better about things now. I know the commute is almost over. I’m sweaty, exhausted and violated, but it is almost over. I can deal from here.

We all slowly shuffle off the train. I am at the back of the line. That is ok with me, and I would rather be at the back of this horde then in the middle!

We shuffle along the platform to the stairs. I follow an older man, I get the indication early that he does not know this station, he looks around wondering where he should be walking. He stops suddenly, no care for those walking behind him. I have to stop as well, as do the few people behind me. I try to make my way around the old man, but he begins his walking again, cutting off my move to get around him. Back behind him, back in the slow shuffle. I will lose this idiot on the stairs.

I get up the stairs. The hustle of the station’s main level resembles a scene from a movie, World War Z, plaques of Zombies ‘Z’s’ storming their way through the living. I take another breath as I reach the top of the stairs, preparing myself for what is about to occur. I join the other ‘Z’s.’ I beeline for the ticket scanners, my gateway out of this overpopulated nightmare. The line-up for the train ticket scanners is long and growing. The lineup reminds me of that ‘Snake’ game you would play on those older style mobile phones, and the ‘Snake’ would get longer, just like the line up to exit the station.

I finally get through.

I can speed up my pace as I make my way through the arcade and toward the escalator that will elevate me up to the street level and to some fresh open air, well, as fresh as the air can get in the city.

I bump my way past the thirty or so lined up at the subway coffee shop, waiting to get their caffeine hit for the day, I will be getting mine soon. But I will wait until I get to my office, hard enough walking the city streets in the morning, but even harder with a cup of hot coffee in your hand.

I manoeuvre past the morning coffee waiting crowd and prepare myself to board the escalator. A large fur coat pushes past me just as I am about to board. A lady wearing what appears to be an extravagant coat, too extravagant for the zombie plagued subway station, budges past me, almost knocking me to the side of the escalator. She is in a hurry. Maybe she realised this subway is no place for that coat, either way, she clearly has no respect for the fellow commuters. Her strong perfume smell lingers as she lumbers up the escalator, bumping other commuters as she passes them. The strong perfume tightens my breathing tubes. I clear my throat. The Perfume smell intensifies my desire for some fresh tasty open air.

I get off the escalator and can see my opening to the outside world, the automatic doors open, I get ready to breathe in the open-air goodness… Smoke! I am greeted by two people, a man and a woman. They are inhaling their nicotine rods, cigarettes. The air above them is white and hazy. I walk through the automatic doors, no choice but to second-hand smoke with them. All I wanted was a bit of fresh hair, and all I get is tobacco flavoured white air. I take a small breath, I hold it. I try to hurry past them. I make my way along the sidewalk. Safe to breathe now. Nope, that fucken lingering cigarette smoke can still be tasted.

‘ARGH.’

I power on. My office building is only two blocks dead ahead. Finally, no smoke smell, but, workmen who are doing construction work on a nearby building have occupied half of the walk way, causing a bottle neck either side. I stop to let a lady and her four younglings pass. It is the polite thing to do. I watch the lady, expecting a thank you, a wave, a smile? Nope, nothing.

I continue. Up head, a guy is streaming toward me, head down into his phone. Is he going to look up and see what is ahead of him? Is he going to see me? What if I were a crazy person gunning for him, he would be oblivious. I have to use my rugby league knowledge to step him as we pass. Head still down, focusing on whatever ‘crap’ his phone is relaying back to him.

One main street to cross and then I’m at work. The pedestrian light is red, but that doesn’t stop a few brave souls from chancing their ability to cross. Are they that eager to get to work? I am happy to wait. Nothing would ruin my day more than getting collected by a car or a bike because I was that ‘keen’ to get to work… I’ll wait for the green light…

I arrive at my desk. I slump back into my office chair. I take a moment to focus myself before I reach into my satchel for my laptop. I stare at my blank screen dual computer monitors. I feel exhausted, and I feel like I have already undertaken a day of work. I almost feel ready to get up from my seat and begin the journey home… ‘Ok, Simon may as well fire up your laptop.’

I reach into my satchel and grab my laptop. I place it on the desk dock and log in.

I open up my email. Email is where most of my working day is spent. Hopefully, after that morning my day eases up. My email opens, new emails arrive. One, five, eight, twelve, twenty-two, thirty, forty.

The emails pour in just like the passenger pouring into my train carriage… I lean forward to glance over a couple. I shake my head, ‘nope.’ I slump back into my chair.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! I’m getting a coffee…’.

  • The Never End.

Planet Rossco

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Planet Rossco

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My Twitter account, a crummy world of plot holes and spelling errors, also, I am the greetest! My views are someone elses...

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