I'm very much aware that most of the door donkeys who ride the first coach behind the locomotive home to Oshawa on every rush hour train between 3:30 and 5:30 do not like me.
I also know that a few of them peruse this website from time to time to see if I've had anything to say about any of them lately, and I haven't, because I've spent the past 18 months going out of my way to avoid them all. They are the reason I have commuter rage. They are the reason why I have to stifle the urge to throw a boob punch.
Last night, because of crowding, I somehow sheepled my way to the far eastern end of Platform 24 and wound up on the coach to hell, right behind the worst of the worst. The train was packed and there was no where to go when I got on, except to stand, near the door area, with my most favourite type of crazy train people.
Personal space? Not with these donkeys.
Trying to read a book? Not with these donkeys.
Trying to use your phone? Not with these donkeys.
Trying to listen to music? Not with these donkeys.
None of these people can stand still. They yell, as loud as they possibly can, to each other, and they talk. They talk about their day, their spouses, their television, their sporting events, their kids, their in-laws, their decorating styles, their wardrobes, their cars, their goal to find the cheapest hot dog buns in town, their dog's testicles, their nana's flatulence issues, their front steps, their key cutting experience, their dock is sinking and on... and on ... and on.
The volume on my phone just wasn't loud enough. I tried to drown them out with the Thompson Twins (King for a Day), Sly Fox (Let's Go All The Way), Level 42 (Something About You) and Tone Loc (Wild Thing).
I had to sidestep the flailing arms of one donkey as she demonstrated to the others how she tries to balance on her sinking dock. It's like she didn't notice or care that perhaps not all of us give a shit, or that someone might be behind her.
I went on a Twitter rage that my husband found impressive after she turned around at one point and asked me to turn my music down.
The worst. Train ride. Home. Ever.
20 comments:
It always amazes me at how clueless people are to their surroundings.
Had someone done that to me, I would have returned the comment with once you shut up, I can turn the music down.
I hope you were using your headphones.
Like I said via Twitter, just make the walk over to the west end of the train. Sure, it's an extra few minutes of walking but the coaches at the west end have way less crowding and my commuter rage has gone down about 50% since making the switch.
I don't play music without headphones. I could not make the volume any louder.
And yes, I should have listened, barreled my way out of the coach and movedthrough the swarm towards the back of the train. But I didn't -- stupid me.
OMG CJ I was standing beside you the whole way last night. I wondered if it was you and if you were as annoyed as I was. I would have moved to another car but the platform was packed so I was stuck. I was the quiet one tucked in the corner.
Did you hear her tell me to turn down my music!!! Could you believe that?!
Wow - which train were you on? I take the 4:25 pm and am always in that coach (but my crew and I are in the middle section and don't generally head down to the doors - or try - until we leave Whitby)...
However, I have had the misfortune of being on the 4:53 a few times and let me tell you, there's a gaggle of door donkeys (male and female) who are no fun (and even less fun when the train suddenly stops for an hour, courtesy of some idiot pedestrian on the tracks).
One girl who was deceptively well-dressed had a mouth on her worse than any truck driver I've ever met and has never learned to use her inside voice. Her constant, loud, graphic and expletive-laden diatribe about her boyfriend was impossible to ignore. But it took everything I had not to burst into fits of (quiet) laughter when she loudly opined to everyone within earshot (so, everyone) that whatever she considered his faults to be were the reason she wasn't married. The lady next to me and I looked at each other in amazement.
AND they were snarky about moving away from the doors so people could exit. Class all over the place in that group.
For my the sake of my personal safety, I am not giving the train time.
Fair enough. But I almost spat out my tea when I read the part about one of the group stopping their antics only long enough to ask YOU to turn down your music :-P
I didn't hear her at first. I saw movement. I looked up. I took out an earbud and heard her say, "She must be deaf, holy fuck, turn it down!" She then turned her head and we made eye contact. I then leaned down, picked up my bags and shuffled over to the door itself, turning to face outside while texting TomW absolutely steaming.
Guaranteed that's the same stunning example of young Canadian class that I was referring to in my example above. Lovely.
I tried to connect with you on the train one night and sat in the first coach (didn't see you by the way). I didn't think I was going to make it out alive. The doors and the stairs all the way up to the top level were blocked with donkeys. They don't move when you ask nicely. It almost got to a "get the eff out of my way". I just barged through. I vowed never again would I sit in that coach going home. Rude! Rude! Rude!
WORST. COACH. EVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
I hate that coach! I have only boarded that coach a few times and every time it was mostly filled with loud and obnoxious people that seem to stand by the door. They barely budged when any of us wanted to get off (at Whitby). What an ignorant bunch.
I hope they are reading. All of them. The 407. The 425. The 453.
Y'all should take a hard look at these comments.
I used to sit on the first coach for the longest time until this particular group on the 425 became so obnoxious, I had to give up being closer to the exit at Oshawa (because I am disabled with a cane) and move three coaches back.
I guess they felt since it was the Quiet Zone rollout at the time, they could turn up the volume and damned those of us who can't climb stairs to escape so we were made to be punished. So I moved. Hope they're happy. They truly made a lot of people miserable.
why didnt you tell her that your music was cranked because you had to drown out their obnoxious voices?
And start a fight? Not again!
I live in an area of Toronto overcrowded with ... foreigners (being polite) who don't know etiquette.
While walking down sidewalks, if I see someone coming towards me, I'll move as close to the edge of the sidewalk as possible. It seems these sidewalk donkeys don't understand polite behaviour, and usually barrel into me, and than have the audacity to blame ME!
Several times I've had heated discussions about respect for others, and how they should walk behind their friends when someone comes at them, only to be told I was wrong, and should have walked on the grass.
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