Pelting wind and rain, blustery snow, and squelching heat. You combine any of these weather conditions 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, in this case, a 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, 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 their early morning Starbucks fix because they perked right up and pushed as hard as they could for the doors. I felt like a lemming being pushed off a cliff, but luckily the pushing stopped as people charged for the doors, getting stuck and looking plenty desperate.
Three trains later, I was at last near the front. I stood there entertained by the Special Constable as he told us "Don't be shy. Push backwards if you need to". I would have gladly obliged if it wasn't for the angry mob behind me, pushing back as if I were somehow trying to start a fight. Half the time I don't even get this close to my friends, but the feeling of several people breathing down your neck and on your face has to be in the top ten list of the most creepiest feelings in the world.
A lady in the front suggested that we needed lines painted on the floor. You know, like a pathway in which the doors of the subway stop directly within. "They do that in Europe, you know", she said, as the people around her rolled their eyes. I nodded, and thought it was a pretty good idea, although I don't exactly think that this city has the mentality to follow that. I mean, here I am almost being pushed on the tracks because the people behind me don't seem to notice the obvious bright yellow on the floor, dividing the crowd from the platform and third rail. With that, I really don't think our city is ready to follow simple directions.
I must admit that this lady had a much more positive outlook than I did, because the first solution that came to mind involved large broom handles and cattle prods. I remember watching a YouTube video entitled "Pack Them In!", in which passengers were crowded around the doors of the subway as atleast four Oshiyas (an informal Japanese name for "pusher") pushed them in with all their might. Another one involved using a broom stick to pack them in.
The unfortunate thing about the crowding around Subway doors is that when the people come off, they can only come off in single file. The crowd around them is so thick, nobody wants to move back, and these people have to force their way out. Because it takes so long for passengers to exit the subway car, passengers that are waiting to hop aboard only have two seconds to push as hard as they can to get onto the train. These two seconds clearly aren't enough, as the train ends up leaving the station well under it's minimum capacity.
As I stood at the front, the fourth train arrived into the station. I pushed back to allow a little more room for the passengers to exit the train. Even as people were still exiting, the people behind me were eager to push forward. I knew that as soon as the last person exited that I would be flung forward like a slingshot and probably splatter on the opposite door like a bug with a cart. The Special Constable encouraged us to let these people through, and the passengers waiting to hop aboard huffed, puffed, and sighed, many of them telling him to "Shove it" under their breaths - in various obscenities, of course. This I couldn't understand, because he was right! He seemed to be the only logical person in site at the time.
As I was pushed onto the train and onto the opposite side, I watched in awe as the people that were behind me were stuck in the doors as at least five or six people were trying to get into the door all at once. The people behind them were cursing and shaking their heads in disgust as they too began to push forward as well. I never understood how people were entitled to shaking their heads when they too were the underlying cause of the problem.
I guess what I am trying to get across is that people need to practice being better, well, humans. We push and push and push and get nowhere, but if you just stood aside and gave the passengers plenty of exiting room we could all get on the train that much more efficiently, faster, and without the chime going off way before the train is full. I call this tactic, "Being selfish the better way". If you're going to think only of yourself, you might as well do it right.
All in all, though, it was just another day aboard the Sardine Express.