I’ve been riding public transit in Chicago for decades. Barely anything I see on the bus, el or subway phases me. Most of the time I’m so much into my own commuting world with my phone or whatever portable entertainment is popular at the time, the world could end on the train and I wouldn’t be the wiser. I’m not saying that’s a good thing, especially in today’s unpredictable world, but that’s just just the way it is in a big city. Public transit is a way of life, almost like breathing. I’ve never owned a car.
The less jaded side of me still marvels at the city trains. A massive transit system reminds me that I live in a big, bustling metropolis. Having spent most of my life in Chicago and a decade on the East Coast, I’ve relied heavily on public transit. From New York’s gargantuan MTA, with its seemingly never ending, complex subway system, Boston’s intriguing T, to Chicago’s awe worthy elevated trains; how they screech over head in the densely built up Loop. As a kid, the el frightened me, but I also loved it.
Public transit in big cities move millions of people. With millions of people comes millions of stories. Public transit riders alone provide a never ending supply of stories. I could make an entire career out of the CTA alone, but I won’t do that, although, you may get another story or two from me that may include a ride on the Windy City’s famous el.
Some of the best people watching is by riding public transit, and I must say, the Chicago el, bus and subway has given me some of the most diverse people watching of any other transit system I’ve taken.
What are some of the strangest things I’ve seen riding public transit in Chicago: Rats on the subway? No, not yet. That distinction belongs to New York City. When I was living there, a rat accompanied me to the MTA vending machine where I hurriedly loaded up. In Boston, one of the fattest rats I’d ever seen followed me down the stairs of the T, as I was stumbling down coming from the Beantown Pub, a great pub I must add.
On Chicago’s el I’ve witnessed: 3 card monte scams played on unsuspecting tourists, a bitter ventriloquist who cursed passengers out with his dummy, street vendors selling condoms and getting into fights over train car territory, people moving furniture on the el, how they lifted a loveseat over the turnstile, brought it on the train and used it as their seat, and finally, a young woman that took a shit in the seat in front of me. Yes! I had never gagged until then. She caused the entire O’Hare Blue Line train to be taken out of service due to the incredible stench. Who knows what else I may have missed.
Then comes summer, 2016, August. It was hotter than Satan’s ass. Coming from work I got on the Subway. I was thrilled that the ac was pumped up. I sat down and noticed something odd about the young woman sitting across from me. It took a few stops and a few peripheral stares, but I noticed something about her lip. Now that may not seem like strangest thing to see on the el, but it did inspire me to write “The Lip”. I won’t give the story away here because I want you to read it. It’s a true story. After writing it, I realized the story was about more than her lip. It was about us, a society of judgement passing people and how we reacted to the woman’s obvious dilemma. Myself, guilty as charged. I desperately wanted to stare at her, but instead relied on the reactions of the passengers around me. The gaping old ladies, the child that screamed at the sight of her, and the young frat boys that laughed and actually took pictures of her with their phones. Ultimately the story was about the people watchers, not so much the young woman. Please read The Lip. I’m curious to know what you think.
Next Time: The Lip.