Subway encounters

Riding Toronto's red rocket (otherwise known as the TTC) is always an adventure. Regardless of where you’re going or who you’re with, you almost always encounter an “interesting” (to put it lightly) subway rider. Numerous times, I hurry out the door, not giving a second thought to my attire, and just hoping to keep warm from the bitter temperate and chilly wind. However, dashing between the subway doors into the car, I become slightly paranoid about my outfit choice, especially when I receive some icy and solemn stares from fellow riders. As those thoughts quietly consume me, I struggle between the sea of laptops and schoolbags to find a seat, which is always like finding a needle in a haystack at rush hour.

In the midst of my seat searching venture, I happen to rest my eyes for a few seconds on an oddball character, which I hope and pray doesn’t end up sitting next to me. Oddball, in two regards. In one sense, I mean the drunken smelly types who need to be sanitized in a bath of Purcell(before you could even fathom sharing a cramped seat with them). In the second sense, I’m referring to those shifty eye characters, hands in pockets, giving you sideway glances, and muttering something completely indiscernible under their breath. When I find myself seated with either of these two oddballs, I try subtly getting up (which is most times unsuccessful) and walking to the other side. However, I encounter just as creepy a character, an end up playing musical seats throughout my subway ride.

Aside from my daily profiling, it’s sometimes amusing to watch those hungry-eyed riders desperately scouting the empty seats for a copy of the good old metro. After an unlucky venture, they glance both ways, and gingerly rescue the crumpled copy swept under the seat. Although, it’s a pretty common thing to do, I often see most riders exhibit a momentary hesitation, in fear of what others might think of them. However, their thoughts are quickly interrupted by either the grumbling of someone trying to exit, or the monotone voice over the monitor announcing the next stop.

In between stops, I also like to observe the fashionistas strutting their stuff down the passenger car, or posing next to their drably-dressed counterparts. My favourites are those frumpy old ladies, who wear extremely bright, but fatally pink lipstick that could be spotted miles away. Aside from the rolled up school skirts, dirty ugg boots, and greasy bed head hair, I also enjoy the ladies awkwardly putting on their makeup as we enter those dreary and dark tunnels (hoping they don’t do a Bridget Jones or end up sporting a clown face).

Fashion cares aside, the rest of the time I enjoy listening to the overflow of gossip trailing from a group of giddy teenagers, some businessmen (who forgot their blackberries of course) or even a dog owner boasting about his pit bull rescue. Unfortunately, unless you’re multilingual, it’s hard to decipher the chitter-chatter of other languages being spoken.

Anyways, I wrote this small little piece to remind subway goers that there is always plenty of free entertainment when you are riding the red rocket to work or otherwise. With that in mind, next time you’re on the subway try turning off your ipod or handy-dandy blackberry, and absorb the hustle and bustle of your temporary travelling companions.