Cell Phones on a Train



You ever find yourself in a situation where you stop doing what you’re going to do because you realize it is rude, only to have someone else do the exact thing you thought you shouldn’t do? Of course you have. Because you’re a person. And people are scum. Last weekend I was on the train home and despite my inebriation I showed great restraint in not making a phone call that would have resulted in me inadvertently screaming out the details of how my night went. I thought, “No, guy, these kind people don’t want to hear about you pissing on that church lawn, or about the huge rat that ran by which may or may not have actually been a cat. Some of these people have just got off a long shift at work, or a have spent the last 3 hours striking out at the bar while that slut Cindy went home with the guy they were eyeing all night. Don’t be rude guy, wait for your stop.” So I holstered my phone and waited. Princess did not.

I’m calling her princess not because she had a tiara or even sweatpants bearing this moniker as royalty often does, but because this bitch certainly felt like she was entitled. Also, because despite having to listen to the excruciating details of her life for the next half hour, she did not reveal her name. She did reveal that her boyfriend dumped her recently. It really wasn’t working out. Then she was kicked out of her apartment. She tried to find a new apartment but after the realtor took her deposit, they said the place she looked at wasn’t available and left her with nowhere to go. Except Tiffany’s. You know Tiffany, she’s princess’s friend who lives further away from work and has a boyfriend who smokes too much pot and never wears pants. These are details that you, myself, princess and now princess’s dad know. Because who doesn’t drunk dial their father on a crowded fucking train?

It’s just bad etiquette right? We all have a phone, and likely someone who will answer/enjoys receiving pure nonsense on their voicemail. But it’s tight in there, no space for everyone to make phone calls. You won’t be able to hear, so it’s just asking for trouble right? I mean, the same thing happens on planes. You think they tell you to put your phones away because it might mess with their technology? Do you seriously think airlines are going to risk a catastrophic plane crash on the honor system and 2 leatherfaced hall monitors patrolling the aisles when their not pushing the drink cart along? Please turn your cell phones off because it could send us spiraling into that nearby mountain range. Okay I’m turning it off. Good, now put it under your feet because we need make sure we’re all safe. You won’t see me until everyone other asshole on this plane gets a $10 glass of wine. But I trust you.

It’s goddamn ridiculous. You can’t use your phone on a plane because it would be an annoying pain in the ass for everyone who has to experience it. And when they can’t exactly stop the plane at will, you don’t need any more excuses for cramped passengers to want to attack each other. Like loud obnoxious phone calls. Which is why I thought the same rules applied on trains. You can text. You can even text horrible things about the person right next to you. But calling someone and bitching away throws it in everyone’s face that you don’t give a shit whatsoever about their well being. Sure I didn’t really give a shit if Princess was having an unenjoyable time on a train. I wouldn’t really give a shit if she took that breakup extra hard and threw herself right off the fucking moving platform. But as a person I thought it was common courtesy to not bark in her fucking ear. That would be rude, and she could probably use some compassion as apparently she was now homeless.

But I should have stood up to her and said something, you know, for the greater good. If she really has nowhere to go (ungrateful to Tiffany as she seemed, I’m guessing she’ll kick her to the curb next) she will be riding these trains all night. And then everyone will have to listen to where she went wrong with her life. I feel no sympathy for her Dad however. That motherfucker created this monster; he should have to spend his Saturday night listening to her wailing and bite his fucking tongue. But the rest of us, what did we do? We got on this train, because the rules say drunk driving or stealing cars or whatever pushes people to the rails is not okay. And then we shut the fuck up because the rules say everyone needs time to reflect on their poor choices of the night instead of disturbing the other passengers. Society has rules to at least limit the rudeness that festers inside all of us. I should have countered her rudeness with a rude but succinct “Hey, keep it in your pants.” She’d either understand she has to play by the rules and put the phone back in her pocket, or at least be creeped out enough to ride this out quietly.

But I didn’t say anything. I just fucked around with my phone in silence. Checking scores that I would inevitably forget the results of in an hour. Tried to make a word for 15 minutes only to end up with “DOG” and get stuck with Z-Q-V-U-U-X-R left. What the fuck am I going to do with this shit in one turn? Looked at old facebook pictures to remind myself how much better life used to be. And thinner. When did everyone get so fat? And then I just started listening. I wanted to know more about Jake or Chad or whoever the fuck used to plow Princess until last week. I need to know about her shady realtor and why she was so dependent on her father. I was hate listening the shit out of her, but listening all the same. And then she left. Finally I can go home. Until I realized my stop was 3 stops ago. Fucking cell phones on a train.




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