Now, I’ve experience a few mosh pits, and probably even more evening commutes, and if the past was a decent indication, I can tell the difference between the two without even a second thought. Today, my whole world was challenged that made me think back upon my experiences in the pit and on the train.
Lets rewind.
This morning, I was scowling viciously smiling merrily at everyone I passed as I walked into a filthy, smelly and down right disgusting beautiful and spotless Roma Trastevere station to catch my morning train to my office. The train was 5 minutes late according to the board so it was a typical morning, nothing different from every other day. When the train pulled up at 8:09, only 3 minutes late, it was then that I knew there was going to be a problem.
The train was full.
People crammed together like sardines in a can, but they didnt leave the necessary 1/4″ at the top as mandated by the FDA. And since this train car is roughly 500,000 times the size of a sardine can, I’m thinking they needed a little more than 1/4″ clearance. It was pretty clear at this point that not everyone waiting at the busy station was going to get on the train, and me standing at the back of the pack had no chance. So I decided I’d just wait it out and avoid getting hit over the head with some 70-year old Italian lady’s handbag to get on the train. The next train was only 15 minutes later anyways, and being 5 minutes late to work wasn’t that big a deal, it was Friday after all.
So I waited. And waited. And waited. 40 minutes gone by and finally the next train arrives. Only this time its worse. I kid you not, the train had a physical, noticeable bulge from being overfilled. Kids were sitting shoulders of strangers, people sitting on each others laps, and my personal favorite, the luggage balancing act. 5 pieces of luggage stacked on top of each other in a pyramid with a young brother and sister balancing on top. SOMEONE CALL BARNUM AND BAILEY, CAUSE BOY DO I HAVE AN ACT FOR THEM. Honestly, it could have been a Gypsy circus, I don’t know, but I was quite impressed. After staring and laughing a bit I realized I had to find a place on this train. I shoved my way onto the train, kindly asked everyone if they could please make some room for the oversized American who didn’t have a [Poor language removed] clue what everyone was screaming about. Once I was firmly positioned on the train with at least 8 sets of elbows around my chest level, we were ready to go. Fast forward 3 stops to when I needed to get off this train from hell, and I needed to do it fast. I figured the only way I was making it off this train was to knock everyone out of my way, stiff arm style again, kindly ask everyone if they could please move out of the way. After pushing someone into the door to stop it from shutting some kind soul volunteered to sacrifice their body by sticking their leg into a closing door, I was finally off the train, in the clear and a short walk away from my office.
I should have known that this was only a sign of things to come. If only I could have sensed that this would be a cakewalk (sidebar: da [Poor language removed] is a cakewalk anways?) compared to the fire and brimstone, sacrificial ritual, 7th circle of hell shitstorm I was going to experience in the evening, I would have caught the next train home.
Fast forward 8 hours and I’m off to catch my train home. Headphones in, walking to the platform enjoying the nice cool evening. I see a train departing the station as I turn the corner from the footpath and think, thats okay, next one is in 5 minutes, guess that one was just running late. MY NAIVETY KILLS ME. Get to the platform and see that the next train to come is the 17:13. its 5:22 so my basic math skills tells me that that means its 17:22 and that train is running a bit late. No problem, I just saw the train before so their must be one only 10-15 minutes behind it. I look back up at the board no more than 10 seconds late and it reads : 30 min ritardo delay. Doesn’t take any knowledge of the Italian language to figure that one out. Okay, well if it was the 17:13 train, that means its only another 20 minutes until its here. Fine, its Friday, I’m happy as a clam that its the weekend and I’m perfectly content waiting 20 minutes to get a train home. No problem. What’s 20 minutes in the grand scheme of things I think to myself? Just then, the delayed sign changes to 30 minutes. No biggie, 10 more minutes. La de [Poor language removed] da. The platform starts to get crowded. Delayed sign flips to 40 minutes. More people amass on the platform. 45 minutes. Even more people, taking pictures of all the people standing on the platform.
Train comes. Its completely full of people, but this time no one is getting off, but I’ll tell you one guy who is getting on. It’s me. I was getting on this train. I was not waiting another 40 minutes to get turned away by a full train. I managed to squeeze on because the door had stopped right in front of me. Turns out I wasn’t the only one who thought they would get on this train. Everyone else did too. So, with a knee in the back of my head, an armpit wrapped around my face and some girls feet on my shoulders the doors shut. And then open. And then shut. And then open. And then shut. Turns out the driver thinks more people could fit. We wait for 5 minutes like this at this station as people push, scream and yell. Off the top of my head (and what I could recognize) I heard yelling in: Arabic, Italian, English, German, Spanish, Turkish, Dutch, Icelandic, Swedish, Norwegian, Mandarin, Xhosa, and Polar bear. There was a lot of yelling and pushing and pointing because clearly no one knew what the other person was saying.
2 stops to go.
We pull into the first stop, and no one is getting off. But believe you me, people were getting on this train if it was the last thing they did. I had 3 little old Italian ladies hop up onto me and climb over the railing behind me. When there was no more room left, the 4th decided I was a good seat and balanced on the railing while sitting on my back, as I was hunched over from the now 6 people all around me.
1 stop to go.
Second stop, thank god because 1 person was getting off. Unfortunately he was behind me and thought that jumping from the above platform and using my shoulders as his landing was ideal. After catching a a knee to the side of the face on his way down he is off the train. Now since there was an open space on the next level up, APPARENTLY I WAS THE ONE WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO GO THERE. So with the 4 sloth-like humans hanging onto me, I emerge like a dolphin breaching the surface and jump off of some nearby luggage to make it up to the next level, even further away from the door I have to get out of at the next stop. Perfect. Now holding two pieces of luggage that do not belong to me and a child on my shoulders, looks like I’m ready for the next wave of people to crawl over me onto the train.
My stop.
As we pull up to the most crowded station I have to get out the door and hopefully not injure anyone, including myself, in the process. Dropping the luggage and child, I grab hold of a bar and jump. No chance I was landing anywhere but on top of someone. I managed to not break too many humans and walked out through a crowd of people surrounding the train doors and just turn to watch the mayhem unfold. I imagine that if there was one train left to get off a sinking Atlantis, that it looked a little something like this.
Survival of the fittest. Or biggest and able to push people out of the way. Darwin had it all wrong.
