thedailytravelator

[thedailytravelator]

Morning Jitters...

The explosion when it came was unexpected. After it was spent no one knew quite where to look – or what to do with the crackling, snapping energy that now filled this shared public space like a burst of static electricity. If we were all cats, we would have collectively looked something like this –   

The morning’s bus ride had, until now, been fairly uneventful.  

 It was peak hour, so the usual suspects had turned up. The bus was at standing capacity already but still had room to wriggle – so not quite at the sardine stage as yet. The majority of commuters appeared to be on their way to work and, as this bus was headed directly into the business end of town, there were clearly a fair proportion of office type workers filling the ranks. A smattering of students – both university and high school – had also congregated in the aisle. This was probably more by design than chance, rather than squish into the unforgiving narrow seats and risk conversation with one of the more eclectic senior patrons who also frequented this people mover.

 Conversation, as usual, between passengers had been fairly minimal. This was hardly surprising however. Nowadays most people on public transport wear earphones, which not only gives you an immediate out to ignore any attempt at small talk by a fellow traveler but also allows you to appear oblivious to any social interaction happening that you would definitely not like to be involved in. Commercialized apathy marketed as technology…

 When the explosion came this morning though, no amount of studious self-involvement, could possibly have  allowed you to ignore this little unfortunate slice of life.

 The young man concerned, was probably early thirties, and casually dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt with a faded backpack. He was fairly well built in that he looked like he frequented a gym more often than not. He had been sitting down in one of the bench seats designed to accommodate people with mobility needs and one was of the few passengers to have neither a phone a book in his hand. But there was nothing particularly remarkable about him at that point to suggest the hidden volcano that was about to erupt.

 As the bus slowed down to pull up at a set of lights on busy Parramatta Road, the man reached forward to press the buzzer to notify the driver of the next step and began to maneuver himself through the snake chain of bodies standing in the aisle. The lights changed from green to red and the driver, a young Indian guy who had barely said a word to a single passenger the entire trip, began to inch the bus forward in the heavy traffic. Without warning, our antagonist suddenly launched into a full-blown tirade at the top of his voice at the poor hapless driver, who didn’t know how to respond. He accused the driver of being a f***wit, c**t and everything else under the sun for not stopping to let him out. When the bus driver feebly pointed out that this was a limited stop bus, the guy simply turned around and started kicking the door with all his might until it was eventually forced open and he jumped off the moving (albeit slowly) bus. He then continued his tirade from the footpath, while the bus gathered momentum and drove out of earshot.

 In the wake of this violent outburst, there was silence in the bus. We all felt the pent up rage left behind from this classic example of toxic masculinity and we felt the shared fear and embarrassment for the driver plus our collective shame for not doing anything.  But no one spoke. A few people were brave enough to exchange glances with one another and shake their head in disapproval but still no one spoke. I wanted to say something to our driver when I got off, something to let him know that he didn’t deserve that kind of abuse (of course no one does), something to make him feel better – but all I managed was a ‘thanks for the ride’. Pretty pathetic really…

 What is it about collective communal transport that turns us into such conformist sheep? This is a world where, despite the emergence of technology, which seemingly brings us closer together, we turn away from opportunities to interact with others in the flesh. Tomorrow morning I am going to out down my headphones and strike up a conversation with a fellow traveler – and say hello to the driver.

 I challenge you to do the same.

[thedailytravelator]

Moody Blue...

It was probably only the third or fourth time that I’d seen him. I don’t always manage to catch the same bus on my daily commute. But the pale blue suit jacket was immediately recognisable in the sea of browns, blacks and other muted colours favoured by similar travellers of the same gender dressed in their business attire. Even though he was tall, the jacket was still too long and hung loosely from his thin frame. Don’t get me wrong, it was a nice jacket. It just kind of looked like a knockoff version of a really expensive jacket that would have featured in a spread in a magazine like http://www.mensfashionmagazine.com/gents-guide-to-dressing-for-the-races. In a way his whole ensemble was kind of like that - dark brown chino’s, tan loafers and usually some kind of paisley patterned shirt - decent but more on a target budget as opposed to  https://www.mjbale.com/. He looked like he had made a real effort but wasn’t yet comfortable in the image. 

His hair was cropped short and plain - kind of the like the cut a mother gives her thirteen year old son before he starts asserting his independence - and his glasses were a thin, steely grey. His face was narrow with a small amount of finally plumed hair gracing his top lip and I’m guessing he was fresh out of university. I liked to imagine that he had just landed his first major job as a copywriter at one of the big agencies and was doing his best to ‘fit in’ with the cool kids.

The first time I really noticed him was when he shyly stood to give up his seat for a father and toddler. Unlike later in the day, children were fairly rare on this ‘limited stop’ rush towards the city in peak hour. Occasionally you would see a well dressed mum with a toddler in tow, whom I suspect was obviously fortunate to work for one of those enlightened companies who were savvy enough to provide daycare on their premises for their employees. A father and child making this morning dash were somewhat more unusual which I guess is why I initially noticed this tall young man. 

Since that time, whenever our paths have crossed again, he has been head down engrossed in a book. I had wondered idly - at first - and then more obsessively, what it was he was reading. A biography on Elon Musk perhaps? (https://www.nytimes.com/2015/05/13/books/elon-musk-a-biography-by-ashlee-vance-paints-a-driven-portrait.html) Or something old school - a classic like  https://www.huxley.net/bnw/ ? This morning however, was the first time I was sitting close enough to actually get a glimpse of that elusive title. To my surprise, Mr Moody Blue was a fan of the popular fiction https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/19486412-big-little-lies by Liane Moriarty based on the lives of  three women, their families,  secrets and their lives in the beachside eastern Sydney suburbs. Who knew?

My next thought has turned to just what is he listening to on those earphones of his......?