Next Stop: Go

As much as I hate to dwell on my public transportation experiences, I had one this morning that I must relate. There are two Brown Line El stops in the Loop where most of the people leave the train. They are Washington and Wells, and Quincy.

Quincy is my stop but every morning I get up at Washington and Wells, exit from the north door of my car and then walk over to the south door and enter. I don't do this because I have OCD. I do this so I can be the first out the door when we arrive at Quincy. It's a sneaky trick, I know, but I truly can't stand being stuck behind people as they creep ahead of me--on foot or in a car. I hate traffic passionately.

Most of the people get off at Washington and Wells. Today, I heard the announcement "This is Washington and Wells..." I got up and so did the woman next to me. I headed for the north door. The train stopped. Everyone paused in silence, while they waited for the doors to open. Silence. The doors didn't open. And then another anouncement "Doors closing..." People looked around, amused. Obviously the driver hit the wrong button since the doors had never openned.

Then the train lurched. "Quincy is Next." Hey! "Doors open on the right, at Quincy" People were muttering, stunned and confused. The whole train came awake as we left Washington and Wells without letting a single person off. The com-buttons to contact the driver were being pushed all over the train, creating a symphony of "bings" at various volumes. No answer. No announcement. Nothing.

That's what I found the most odd. Perhaps the station had been closed. Those CTA drivers usually over-communicate though. During a normal delay, a train will stop and sit and every thirty seconds, it seems, you'll hear that damn announcement "we are being delayed, waiting for signals up ahead. We expect to be moving shortly..." But this time, nothing.

When we arrived at Quincy, so many people had to get off the train, that the platform was a Tokyo rush hour. It took me five minutes to make it to the street. The train couldn't leave the station because there were people unable to make it off the train and onto the platform. And that's when we heard the only announcement from the driver. "Please stand clear of the doors...doors will be closing."

Cell phones popped up all over the crowd. It made me think of us as herd animals who have a strange group characteristic when we're cornered. We reach into pouches on our bodies, put objects to our faces and begin to shout "yeah, I'm gonna be late."

I liked it. I think everyone liked it, even the ones who thought they hated it. It gave us all an excuse to talk about it and it woke us from our routines. I don't know why it drives me crazy to be stuck behind a near still herd of business casuals. It is one of those lessons in patience that I'm obviously meant to learn. It is something out of my control, from which I am meant to take lesson.

Today has been a day of sunshine and rain--and I'm not talking metaphores. It was an overcast, warm day. It was then a sunny day. It poured rain. The sun came back and it was hot. Again, the rain. Again, the sun.

It is 7:30pm and I'm finishing this blog at the Neo-Futurarium. In 30 minutes, my fiance's show, Inside My Mouth, will have its opening night. And they have a great ending to their show now. If you live near Chicago, you should come see this show.

I got myself a tea and was on my way back to write this when I saw some gathering clouds over the roof of a bank on Clark St. A flash. A peel of lighting. And from nowhere a woman next to me said "did you see that?" I didn't recognize her. The lightning, the midwest, these put us on speaking terms. "Yes." I said. "Looks like it didn't go away." She laughed and we went in opposite directions.

Our lives are sunshine and rain. Now I'm talking metaphores--remedial ones in fact. We stop. We go. And sometimes we keep going with the door closed. Sometimes we try to keep our doors shut but the lightning and the open heart of a passerby rips them open. One day we don't have an ending to our show, less than a week later that ending is the best ending a show can have.

It is during those moments when we have no control over what is happening, that our lives and purpose are defined. In a life that always has sunshine, on a train that always stops and lets you off, in a work of art that always ends perfectly, you are at best a piece of pretty scenery. In our moments of bliss, we are as dead as we are happy. Enjoy it before it passes, because there are always clouds gathering over the banks on Clark st. And when the rain comes, my advice is don't be a baby. After all, while we're knee deep in obvious metaphores, remember that rain brings life.

And that's why you gotta love it. Even if you hate it.