March 2001

InterCity Commuting
The Lives of Commuters Special

For having three hours of my typical day sucked out by a dual-city commute, I'm dealing pretty well. It's not that bad actually: I almost never get into a car. It starts with a short walk or drive to the train station. (Odd fact: it takes less time to walk there than to drive. But driving there gives me a little time to read Grandpa's lips by Braille. I am weak & succumb.)

The train ride goes by pretty quickly. I read; I sleep; I zone out as the bleak environs of the train tracks pass swiftly by the window. And before I know it, the train is at full capacity arriving at the final stop. A few gulps of diesel exhaust and some strategic pedestrian maneuvering & I'm stuck in the early part of the Metro's escalator traffic jam. Why is there only one small escalator for hundreds of rushing commuters? And why do people insist on blocking the passing lane??

Then I get twenty minutes of being crammed in a Metro car like a bunch of sardines. Someone's arm in my face maybe, or else just the crunch of our collective commuter body whenever the doors open & the gasping masses rush the train thinking they have only this one more chance to get out of their station. Someone always get ricocheted back & forth by the unforgiving doors. Now with razor-sharp teeth!

And we're off! Rushing out of the train, seeking air & freedom. Only to find that the long walk up the eternal escalator has left my lungs empty & that my work is surely not freedom.