Words in their mouths
Today’s commuting experience was a joy, as always. I habitually enter the train and, upon finding no seats available, go to the end of the carriage, where I turn and face the whole length of the carriage. The multivarious pissed-off looking expressions of the people making their way in to work are always a treat. Most of the time I blend in with one of my own, but sometimes I feel out of place when I crack a smile and someone looks at me suspiciously, like I just spotted something hanging from their nostril. When someone else has a smile on their face, I can’t help but smile back, trying to figure out what the hell they’re so happy about at 8:20 in the morning.
Often, I think people just smile to themselves because a thought is in their mind that is so enjoyable, warming or reassuring that they can’t conceal their feelings. A woman on the train from Aguas Calientes to Ollantaytambo in Peru last year alternated between reading her book and looking out over the river and forest passing by the train, an utterly serene smile on her face. I thought it was the book, then I realised I should have had the same smile - I was having one of the best times of my life, but her face said it all, whereas my face just indicated that my knees were knackered and I’d paid too much for lunch.
Maybe it’s a waste of time trying to interpret people’s emotions - I usually get a smile on my face as the train passes Battersea Dog’s Home and I catch sight of a wagging tail in the exercise yard, but someone might interpret that as some kind of religious or philosophical epiphany. Nevertheless, I always end up keeping myself amused on the train by trying to work out what’s in people’s heads. Based on this morning’s facial expressions, that included:
- I fell on my face running up the stairs and made a twat of myself, and now you’re looking at me and you think I’m a twat as well don’t you? This is just the start to the day I needed…
- I’ve got such a sweaty bottom that my cheeks are sort of sliding up against each other, and it’s making me paranoid that I’ve pood myself, so now I’ll have to get in a toilet cubicle at work and check, even though it’s not that oh bollocks I knew I shouldn’t have worn this jumper
- I hate all of you and I hope you die
- Do I have something hanging from my nose?
- Four weeks till my holiday four weeks till my holiday four weeks till my holiday four weeks till my holiday
- Keep reading the book, don’t look up whatever you do.
- My new iPod is shiny and clean, my white headphones are beautiful, behold all of you as I shuffle my genres!
- You’d better believe I look good with these shades on, beatch.
This doesn’t work with the people who get on at Wandsworth Common. They’re all lawyers, experts at hiding their emotions.
Quite Random is the blog of Nathan Nelson, a human male who lives in the UK and is not entirely sure what he's going to do when he grows up but is interested in international development, photography, secularism, technology, music and movies and other things anyone of his age would be.
I’ll never forget the woman who had a tantrum at Wandsworth Common station. She was one of only 2 people on the southbound platform. The northbound platform was full to bursting. She gets paranoid and starts screaming “stop looking at me, all of you, fuck off!”. Obviously, people stared even more then and so she repeated “stop staring at me…STOP IT!!!” Proper mentalist I reckon.
When Good Commuters Go Bad… or something. Worst I’ve seen in ages is a tut tut or a shake of the head.
People commute from Wallesey and Birkenhead to Liverpool on the ferries. Some used to walk clockwise around the decks on the crossing - don’t know if they still do. My best friend Anne and I used to get the ferry when going to walking in North Wales for the weekend (this was a long time ago), and enjoyed going in an anti-clockwise direction, with our rucksacks, just to annoy everyone.