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Pelting wind and rain, blustery snow, and squelching heat. Whichever of these weather conditions pop up - you combine them with an overabundance of people, you have yourself one big group of grumpy Torontonians. Especially in the subway. And with the wind and rain this morning, I expected nothing less.

I don't exactly call myself a Torontonian. I moved here just a year ago from a small town of a mere 8,000 people. I'm sure there are several unwritten rules amongst the city of when somebody can truly be a Torontonian. I myself believe I will never really be one until my attitude or personality made a turn for the worse.

I've been on the subway enough just after 7:30AM to know how chaotic it can be. I just never understood how it could be such a difficult feat to have manners, is all.Here I am in a sea of sardines. Packed together and waiting for the Southbound Yonge train to arrive at Bloor station. My legs weren't moving, and my brain wasn't saying "Go", but I was still somehow moving as the people behind me tried their best to push us all towards the front.

I carried with me a pulley cart, but I decided to rest it on my shoes in front of me. If I kept it behind me, I envisioned it being ripped from me by all the pushing and shoving along with my arms still attached to the handle. Just the other day, I got pushed onto the train unwillingly as a man behind me ripped and tore at my cart to get it out of "his way". I expected to look back and see claws, sharp teeth and glowing eyes as he growled, huffed and puffed, and surely blew the house down.

In front of the crowd, beyond the thick yellow line, stood a lone Special Constable who was controlling the crowds and asking us to move back. For some reason, that translated into "Push Forward" to the people behind me, and as I tried to push back I seemed to spring forward like I were pushing on a mattress or human sponge.

As the train slowly and carefully pulled into the station, the horn sounded to coax us to move back to let him pass. Bodies shuffled, but as opposed to backwards, our bodies seemed to shuffle in place and not really achieving anything. "Move back. Please move back!", the Constable said, as people looked at him blankly, as if he were speaking in tongues.

Amazingly, as if by some miracle, a very narrow crack appeared in the crowd as the passengers were let off the train, single file, and at a snails pace. As the last person stepped off the train, it was as if the crowd had gotten that jolt from

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