The Train Ride Home
On Friday, I got home at around 2:30 in the morning.
I've been taking the train home and back on a regular basis every few months for over five years now. Every time, the trip is a little different.
The nicest train rides are when I get to have two neighboring seats to myself. Honestly, who likes to sit next to a stranger for a 7+ hour train ride? When I have two seats to myself, if I felt like sprawling out and taking a nap, I have that option. Other times, it's nice to be able to just enjoy watching a movie or reading a book by myself for the entire time.
Of course, there's no denying that sitting in one position for such a long time is also a tragic experience. There's no alternative for cramps or restlessness other than to walk up and down the isles of the train, pretending to have some serious matters that needs attending. Likewise, other passengers on the car watch you as you stroll by, praying for the most interesting thing to occur, for you to trip or lose your balance. The mind numbs, the body wastes!
When someone does sit down next to me, they have a choice of whether to initiate conversation. The opportunity is quite interesting, because upon sitting down, the two parties are inescapably held next to one another for the next several hours, at a distance within the typical comfort zone of most North American males, especially me.
I've always felt that the other individual has held that choice of conversation -- I sure as heck avoid all chances to put at risk my emotional and mental well-being for the next several hours. And when they choose to talk, I always encounter some interesting individuals. In one home-bound trip my senior year of high school, a young woman spoke to me incessantly about her boyfriend, her job problems, and her family life. Another time, a senior business executive on his commute home from work spoke non-stop about his opinions of the government of China, his feelings about politics and health reform, and his love of Sarah Palin.
On Friday, the train was delayed two hours, and I got home at around 2:30 in the morning. I typically get home before midnight. Halfway through the trip, an old woman asked kindly to sit next to me, to whom I of course obliged. Her restless body shifted and jerked next to me for the entirety of the three hours of her leg of the trip. She asked about me, whether I went to school, if I was going home for the holidays. I spoke to her, and found out that she was a retired saleswoman for a paper company -- The Office came to mind. She was visiting her son's family for a week for the holidays. She lives alone -- with a caretaker who comes by occasionally because she has Huntington's disease. I helped her open her can of root beer, because her hands couldn't sit steady for long enough to open it. I helped her get up, because her frail legs would not push for long enough to support her body. And she confessed to being lonely. And despite all of this, I struggled at finding the right words to keep a conversation with her, to be a kind human being and engage in a warm conversation that would last a little bit longer than the first five artificial minutes.
And now I wonder if it's best for me to sit alone on the train.