Grief Griefing!

I hate homeless people. Uch. They take up space, they smell up that space - as well as all the surrounding space - and are unpleasant debris. The other day on the subway, I encountered one such thing. It was very noticeable: no one was standing near it, despite the fact that the train was packed. My first thought was, “Oh, that’s gross! This is a brand new E train, and now they’re going to have to get a new one already.” Then I turned my attention to the pile itself. There was a mound of dirty clothes, underneath which resembled the shape of a human, with two garbage bags next to it. It was seated but sprawled over at an impossible position, managing to take up three seats. I realized why people were avoiding that part of the train. There were 2 reasons: (1) The smell. (2) It’s rare, but occasionally you can get lucky on the train. If a seated passenger gets off before your exit, you have a mathematical chance at securing that seat. We all knew that homeless guy wasn’t leaving; if he disembarked from the train, he’d be homesick. So nobody in their right mind wanted to stand near a filthy section of 3 seats that was guaranteed to remain taken.

The ride home earlier today was weird. I guess that’s the best way to describe it. Well, it started out innocently enough. The E came right away, it was one of the new trains, and I got a seat. It was a wonderful surprise; the train portion of the commute was actually quite tolerable. But then when I boarded the Q46, the most bizarre thing took place. After the bus filled up with passengers, nothing happened. Nothing at all. We were just waiting there, standing, holding onto the handlebars, expecting to depart. But we didn’t. Finally, I noticed a commotion and saw several people leaving the bus. They seemed to be muttering something about a mechanical problem. Seeing that we weren’t going anywhere, I too exited. That’s when I noticed a peculiar void: the bus driver was nowhere to be seen. Indeed, the driver who was there when we boarded had disappeared. He simply got off the bus without making any announcements. The next problem was the fact that I had already used up my free transfer when I swiped my metrocard getting onto the bus, and there was no one to give me a transfer card. So when getting onto the next bus, I explained the situation to that driver, who appeared to be a long-time bus driver (judging from his apparent advanced age). He was very nice and politely replied “Sure,” but he also was surprised at the story. He said, “Really? Wow. Huh.” This old timer had thought he’d seen it all before. Ha! Until you ride with me, there will always be something you’ve never witnessed.

Okay, so I bet you’re intrigued by this post’s title. What does the feminist movement have to do with mass transit? Allow me to explain. In America, and much of the Western world, women want to be like men. They want the same jobs as men, they want to play the same professional sports as men, and they want - more than anything - to be viewed as equals. No more of this around-the-house cleaner/cook/all-around-maid. No, sir. The politically correct way of referring to soldiers is “Our brave men and women in uniform.” How many women are there in the military? And how many are in combat positions? Still, it’s “men and women.” Such familiar words as “policeman” and “fireman” are now labeled as misogynistic. For the record, it’s “police officer” and “firefighter.” The last one in particular makes me chuckle. Come on already, does anyone actually believe that women are just as qualified as men to put out fires? Who’d you want to save you from a burning building and carry you to safety - a 6′4″ gorilla of a man, or an idealistic woman? It’s an outrage.

Everything you just read is mysteriously absent on the subway. Somehow, when it comes to getting a seat on the train, the mindset is that a man is supposed to give up his hard-earned seat for a woman. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. If a man sits down and there’s a woman who’s standing, she will give him the look of death. She’ll gaze at him with piercing eyes as if to say, “How dare you not give your seat to me!” And when a man is the closest one to a seat that opens up, there’s usually a woman who darts over from afar to steal it from him. There’s a certain sense of entitlement. As a woman, she deserves to sit. Let the man stand. My question is this: What happened to equality? Aren’t women and men the same in every area? Shouldn’t women be treated exactly like men, in all circumstances? It seems that the answer is no. Feminists promote equality only when it benefits them. However, if they can gain by being different, then they’ll be 1950’s-era housewives.

Today, for the second time ever, I got to ride aboard one of the brand new trains on the E line. Allow to me begin with this: If you fly in the first class section of an airplane but don’t have a seat, all the extravagance in the world won’t do too much for you. The same is true with these new cars. Let’s not kid ourselves, people, it’s still the E train. During rush hour, it’s overcrowded. You stand. That’s the story. That being said, it is an improvement nonetheless. The new trains are a lot nicer and sleeker than that old decrepit junk. What can be better than hearing a robotic voice announce the next stop? Seriously, though, the digital displays and bright lights do somehow make the commute more tolerable. I was careful not to write “tolerable” (because it isn’t); it’s just more tolerable.

The E train today was a disaster. It was ridiculously crowded and awfully hot, and I didn’t even get a pole to hold onto, but that wasn’t the main problem. We were delayed terribly. The train repeatedly, and for painfully long stretches, stopped between stations. So, there we were – underground, somewhere beneath Queens Boulevard – stuck, with nowhere to go. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and I say a facial expression is worth a thousand pictures. During those difficult times, when there seemed to be no hope at all, I kept my sanity by looking around at the faces of all those around me. If I wouldn’t have been in that sorrowful place, I might have found it to be outright funny. Everyone just looked so sad. Let me tell you, folks, there was no joy on that train. Zero. The Angel of Gladness himself wouldn’t have been able to spread good cheer. In fact, it’s possible that it would have affected him too. We were trapped in the dreaded Land Where the Sun Never Shines. We all knew we’d be very late, and with no cell phone reception we were cut off from the outside world. There was nothing any of us could do about it. The MTA had us firmly within their grasp. I have never before felt so violated. Overall grade: F