Train Training

I believe politeness is mandatory.  I’m from Connecticut, the land of excuse me, and please and thank yous.  So it’s no wonder my badminton net went up riding the train.

The number 6 was packed when I got on, but towards the back I see a space between two hulking men in athletic wear.  Being so thin, Gumbyesque, I can squeeze into very small places.  I smile at the two men. “I’m skinny,” I say, not wanting to crowd them, but due to a sore tendon, in great need to sit down.  When a wider seat becomes available across from us, I switch out of consideration, their thighs making three of mine. “Isn’t that better?” I say, without either of them acknowledging my efforts.

A Waspy well-dressed woman eating an apple turnover with huge hips squeezes between them, so now they looked like Hanna Barbra cartoons.  I can’t get over it, after moving, being half her size.

I hate people who eat on the train.  I watch how crumbs fall everywhere while she’s  oblivious to her mess.  It’s very rude, and unless you’re a child who doesn’t know any better, no excuse for it.  Took all I had not to admonish her in her Burberry raincoat and  scuffed white pumps.

A young kid, ghetto pants slipping down his rear – rings, chains…a tattoo of an eagle slithering on his exposed forearm, gets up to let a man with a cane sit down.  The Waspy woman and her two buff bookends don’t move, but this kid probably hailing from the bowels of the Bronx brandished manners I wish his mother could have seen.

All this time we have break-dancers entertaining us up and down the aisle.  When they pass the hat, only three people reach into their pocket – me, the kid and the man with the cane.

Politeness and courtesy are becoming extinct like that eagle images on the kid’s forearm.

SB

 

Advertisements

About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in animals, Fashion, humor, kids, money, New York City, travel and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

46 Responses to Train Training

  1. Lusekelo Munene says:

    Haha, It’s tough love out there. Survival of the fittest but hey, good manners are something we should all learn as children. Thank you for addressing that.

    Like

  2. micklively says:

    I attended a school where rudeness to one’s elders was a caning offence. I don’t approve of violence against children (or anyone else) but you sure learn fast.
    Good piece Susannah.

    Like

  3. skinnyuz2b says:

    Common courtesy makes the doer feel good inside, as well as the recipient. If more people practiced it, there would be less grumpy faces around.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Elle Knowles says:

    I think we are living in a world where it’s each one for their own. It’s always me, myself, and I as you have pointed out Susannah. ~Elle

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Did you compliment the young guy who gave up his seat? I can’t believe you would let such a good deed pass without a compliment. I’m not at all surprised at the rudeness. Manners aren’t taught at home these days at least not in all homes. Sometimes I see parents with young children being rude. How would the kids know anything else. I bet that kid had one tough Mama! (and I bet you could do a great accent on what she’d say if he didn’t give his seat up!)

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Mike Feddersen says:

    Susannah,
    I was always told to watch out for east coaster’s because of them being rude SOB’s but have only found two.

    Like

  7. Just when I think manners are gone forever someone holds door for me and they are resurrected. I’m always grateful when I witness manners in action … it gives me hope.
    As for pastries on the train …. I can’t! So gross

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s