BART – Natalie J. Case

When you ride the same train every day, stand in the same spot to wait for it, you tend to get to know the people who also ride the same train every day and stand in the same line to wait for it. You also get to know the peculiarities of that station’s particular etiquette.

For example, the spot where I wait, we line up along the yellow line, rather than from the yellow line back, because there is only a small area behind us before the bench and the wall, and when the line gets long, it can block people from getting past us down the platform.

Sometimes, we get someone who either isn’t really paying attention, or is accustomed to other ways of standing in line. Normally, we give them a few minutes to realize where the line is, and if they don’t seem to get it, we kindly tell them where the line is.

Normally, they say something like “Oh, sorry,” and they move. Sometimes they ignore us. This morning, there was a man who was standing behind those of us already in line. As per our usual, one of our regulars smiled and let him know where the line ended.

His response was borderline hostile. He said, “Who cares?” and took a step closer. So we tried to explain the reason the line was formed to the right, and he continued to be aggressive. It didn’t matter what we said, all efforts to be polite and friendly led to him getting angrier and angrier until he finally cussed at us and told us we “better just drop it,” in a threatening tone.

When the train finally came, he parked himself in an accessible seat, put on a pair of sunglasses and ignored anyone and everyone. The whole encounter left me feeling crappy, so I stopped into Starbucks and picked up four coffees (because I couldn’t carry more than that), then handed the cashier my Starbucks card and said to use it for the next however many people the balance would cover.

On my way out I loaded up with creamers and sugars and went on about my way to work, gifting coffees to the first four homeless people I came across. By the time I got to the office, I felt so much better. I hope someone buys that bitter man a coffee today, or otherwise gives him a kindness that will improve his outlook. Six AM is far too early to be that angry already.

Happy Wednesday, Readers! Kindness Matters! Pass it on!

Photo by Charles Forerunner on Unsplash

I hopped on the early, early train this morning, the one two trains before the one I normally take, because I got to the station so early. It always surprises me how full the train is at 5:45 am.

When I stepped onto the train, I could see construction workers, half asleep, some squatting on their toolboxes, others sprawled across seats they’d managed to find before the train got full. There were glassy eyed medical workers in their scrubs, blinking blearily out the window and kids on their way to daycare, mostly asleep in their parents’ laps.

There were a couple of college students too, trying to read from textbooks as the train jolted this way and that, clinging to the overhead straps to keep themselves upright. A few stops in, two older women got on, each with a cane and looking like a strong wind would knock them over. We had to rouse two able bodied folks sleeping in the accessible seats to make sure they could sit down. It was one of those mornings where four accessible seats on each end of the car wasn’t enough for those who needed them.

I read most of the ride because I can’t resist the call of a new book. At my stop, I got off the train with the masses and shuffled along to the escalator, praying that the escalator to the street was working because my right hip just is not up to stairs right now. On the concourse I could see the homeless that had slipped into the station for a bit of warmth, sleeping while they could. They’ll get roused soon enough and be forced to move on. At least here in San Francisco they don’t have to worry about freezing temps and snow as they do in some places already this year.

Because I was early, I didn’t pass the regular people: the guy who looks like he belongs in a mob movie, the pregnant woman who is always on the phone, the homeless guy who sets up just in front of the one Starbucks, hoping for a cup of joe from a kind stranger.

Construction has the street all torn up, traffic re-routed, as they build whatever “pedestrian improvements” they’re making. Closer to work, the striking workers were already hard at it outside the Courtyard Marriott, some of them blocking the side walk and chanting incoherently, others standing around the table where the coffee lives and talking. I considered stopping at the Starbucks there, but then I remembered that they were closed due to the strike.

I was early enough that the usual security person wasn’t at the desk yet, so I nodded good morning to the man I don’t know and headed upstairs. It was quiet and dark, the automatic lights weren’t due to come on for another 15 minutes…but I like it that way.

Now, however, the sun is up outside the window and I’m no longer alone in the office. I guess that means I should refill my coffee cup and get busy. Happy Wednesday, Readers! May it be filled with kindness.

Tag: BART

common courtesy

observations on a wednesday morning