On board but without a seat

NJ Transit has interesting priorities.  This morning, on a cold and rainy October morning, we -- the hard-working people of Summit who pay full price for seats on the train -- boarded the train (a few minutes late, of course) to find that essentially all of the seats were taken.  This left people -- including your faithful narrator -- standing in the aisles of every car, door to door. Naturally, the conductor still made her way through the train to collect tickets because even those people who cannot sit must pay for seats.

When she reached our train I turned from my spot (on which I was vibrating as the train bounced down the wet tracks) to listen to her.  "No luggage in the aisles, people! Luggage cannot sit on the floor in case of an emergency.  Safety first, people!" Now I have a few issues with this:

1) No one taking the 7:15 express train to New York Penn Station has luggage. We carry purses or bags which may or may not contain a laptop.  But no one has planned a weekend getaway for this morning.

2) Can you please keep your voice down? It's dark as Satan's birthday still and we are all miserable and tired. Your voice does not need to ring in our ears like a banshee giving birth to Fran Drescher.

3) The aisles are full of people.  In the case of an emergency, this train will be ass-to-nose crammed full of people in all positions pressed together in an unholy mass of humanity.  Does it really matter if there are three laptop bags in the aisle with 20 people? Will those bags spell our doom? Will the police report following the investigation of our tragic, early-morning crash read: "If only that luggage had been properly stowed underneath seats or on the overhead racks.  When the fires broke out and the commuters - piled high from the impact with the oil truck - tried to escape through the emergency exits, a laptop bag unfortunately blocked their exit. These commuters, dazed from the impact of the collision, could not devise a way to get around it. In the minutes that passed, the fires grew and eventually enveloped them.  This all could have been prevented if that luggage had been put away."

It's all about priorities.

A stranger, a train, and a relationship I can't come back from

This morning's commute produced a great number of tantalizing subjects for this blog, among them: 

• The State Police cars lined up outside the station and the police helicopter circling above when I arrived
  
• Walking into the train station behind a police officer brandishing a very large, very loaded assault rifle
  
• The delays that were produced with ANOTHER power outage along the lines, resulting in people being bused into Summit Station
  
• The fun one derives from a two-hour commute
  

But once I arrived at Penn Station, something happened that topped them all. Yes, even something more amazing than the fact that I've now reached a point of numbness from living in the NY area so that large men carrying large guns doesn't phase me in the least. 

You see, because of the problems this morning, my normally express train into the city became local, and because NJ Transit refuses to think in an efficient or helpful manner, we made four stops, even though the train was standing room only as we left Summit.  So, somewhere along the line, I - sitting in a aisle seat - ended up on the wrong side of a just-past-middle-aged woman's caboose.  The woman ended up standing right next to me ... or as would be more appropriate, above and on me.  Because for 20 minutes, her posterior was in near-constant contact with my left shoulder and arm.  This produced a level of discomfort I have not felt since my last colonoscopy, and I was at least asleep for most of that.  

Now, with her butt to me, I didn't actually see her face the entire ride.  This, unfortunately, changed when we reached Penn Station, and when I rose to collect my things and squeeze into the aisle, our eyes met for the first time, and I was left thinking: What does one say to someone after that sort of bonding experience?  In the last 20 minutes we had reached a point in our relationship that I have reached with few others.  I was completely speechless.  But she, God bless her, looked at me and grinned.  Perhaps this was the most action her beginning-to-wrinkle body had seen in some time.  And if so, I am happy to have been of help.