On board with speed commuting

Commuting can be a dull, tedious enterprise. I walk to the train station – now the sun’s not even up yet! – I ride on a quiet train where everyone is wearing black suits or black sweaters, I ride the subway where people are crammed together but refuse to speak or even look at one another. And then I do it in reverse 8 hours later.

And yet, I can count on one thing to brighten this experience everyday. Waiting for my train to post at Penn Station, I always see middle-aged men dressed in their finest suits sprinting through the train station.

These people are not sprinting to catch a train that is set to leave; no, these people take off as soon as the train posts, hoping to be among the first on the train and have their pick of seats. I assume they will spread out in their seats, hoping to sit by themselves, catching an hour for self-reflection before wives and children invade on their otherwise peaceful existence. And, as I’ve said before, their dreams will inevitably crash around them as the train fills up and some thoughtless person asks to sit next to them in the seat they had so diligently staked out. Hopefully, they will have visions of other well-dressed men sprinting through the train station to keep them happy. It is one bright moment in an otherwise monotonous, habitual exercise.