A Spring Commute – Part 2

A Story Celebrating the Humour in a Chaotic Commute

So, there I was, stuck in the door of the train. How fun. People were becoming increasingly agitated due to the delay in getting going and were looking to blame someone. In an effort to avoid being the target of any angry glares, or the subject of whispered exchanges, I desperately tried to hide the fact that I was the cause of the calamity.

“Obviously, the driver doesn’t know what he’s doing,” I heard one lady say to the fellow next to her.

He replied, “Or, he’s a beginner,” which sent them into snickers of laughter.

Evidently, my naturally chill aura and casual, nonchalant posture (you can never go wrong with an arm cross and a distant gaze, that says, “I’m thinking about things…that haven’t even been invented yet”), had thrown the annoyed passengers off my trail for the time being.

My relief didn’t last long, as I soon noticed the driver patrolling down the platform. My face reddened, and sweat protruded from far too many places (side reminder to self: make an appointment with the doctor to discuss unique sweating patterns), as he stopped in front of me and said, “Sorry folks; we’re having a problem with the train. We’ll let you know as soon as we have more information”.

I then threw away any cool-kid credibility that my earlier relaxed facade had earned me. I hastily exclaimed, catching him as he started to turn away, “Sir! The train door is eating my soul!”

So obviously, that wasn’t the most accurate explanation, but he was evidently competent in dealing with crazed passengers and understood what I was attempting to communicate.

He replied with a twinkle in his eye, “Oh! Well, that explains why there was a flashing error message on my dashboard saying, ‘large object stuck in car door’! Ha ha. Mam, I’m just teasing. Are you okay?! You look a bit pale…”

“Well, I’m currently caught in the jaws of a large mechanical vehicle, sir,” I replied.

He then expertly inserted some sort of magical key in the door, causing it to release, which freed me from its devilish grasp.

“Mam, in the future, please try to stay away from the doors, for your own safety, as you two don’t appear to get along,” he said cheerfully as he chuckled to himself at his joke.

I responded with a dutiful and solemn nod as he proceeded towards his conductor train car.

Aside from the emotional trauma I was feeling after embarrassing myself in front of fellow citizens and the magician driver with wonderful door releasing powers (who also seemed to have a bit of a Father Christmas vibe), my foot was feeling increasingly cold, and a beautiful, small puddle had formed at my feet. You can see why I didn’t have to fake any gratitude when I finally arrived at my destination.

As I exited the train, I heard one of the “hip”, likely “dabbing”, youngsters exclaim to his buddy, “Hey that lady is kind of weird.  Also, did she pee or something?”, referring to the puddle my wet shoe had left on the ground.

The sun was still shining as I walked towards my office building, and I attempted to adjust my attitude to be reflective of the warmth it was graciously providing to us earthlings. “Maybe the day is looking up,” I thought. “Spring is here, the world is anew with life. Think about the baby animals…green plants….!” Sure enough, just at that moment a car (I won’t describe it as my psychologist advises that isn’t conducive to the act of “forgiving”), drove by and splashed the delightful liquid that was accumulating on the sides of the road, onto the front of my magnificent spring pants.

“Okay, no big deal. This will dry, it’s not even that nasty, it’s just water! Good ole, harmless, H20. Hydrogen and oxygen. Wow, look at all this science I know! This was basically like a free shower for the front of my legs,” I said to myself in an attempt to remain cool and collected. I decidedly continued my trek to my office building. I had recently finished reading the novel, Wild, and was evidently taking a page from the main character; watch out world, relentless spirit on the loose!

Angels sang as I made it to my final destination. I tip-toed as I entered, in an attempt to avoid attracting attention from the (sometimes) over-zealous building manager who was dutifully sitting at the front desk greeting employees as they entered.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I made it to the elevator without him noticing that I looked like the ocean had given me a hug, and was generously leaving portions of its love all over his building floor.

My colleague (who would likely not be at the top of the list, if I had to rank all of my officemates in decreasing order of amiability) greeted me as the doors opened, “You look like you’ve had quite a morning”, he said.

“Oh boy. I sure have.”

I was about to generously share my story with him, but as he got off the elevator he quipped, “You have a bit of mud on the back of your pants”.

Wonderfully, the walls of the elevator were reflective so I was able to confirm that yes, indeed, I had somehow also managed to get bits of earth on the back of my glorious, spring pants.

One might ask, am I cursed? And yes, I did ponder that. Later that day I actually bought a book called, Removing the Curse Inside of You. What I ended up determining after intensive research and critical thinking, is that obviously, every first spring outfit of the year is cursed and that we, as a human race must be prepared for that. I’m thinking, thigh-high rain boots, rubber socks, a floor-length poncho (nothing shorter will do), okay, make that two floor-length ponchos, better to be safe than sorry, a dust mask, four cloves of garlic, and a wizard’s hat (the more authentic, the better). We’re covering all the bases here.

With that, let us be more prepared for next year, and close the curtain on this year’s Spring Commute.