Saturday, on the train
June 25, 2007 8 Comments
A couple of days ago, I experienced a Do the Right Thing moment. What I mean when I refer to that explosive 1989 Spike Lee movie about the bubbling of urban conflict is that the exchange I witnessed this past Saturday mirrored that film’s themes.
Summertime always seems to draw out tension, the stultifying heat and persistent sun stoking what is usually dormant enmity that lies within city dwellers as we struggle in our daily interactions with our fellow–sometimes irritating–man. In Do the Right Thing, record heat sets aflame racial tensions in Brooklyn’s Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood.
In present-day D.C., the most comparable type of friction occurs between those accustomed to the city as an adult playground full of clubs, bars, and restaurants, and those who tend to have more roots here and think of it as the place they work, live, and will–in some cases–never leave.
This past Saturday, I boarded an Orange line Metro at the Rosslyn station that was traveling in the direction of New Carrollton. At around 6:30 on a Saturday night, this Metro commonly transports the Virginia resident who plans to get an early start on a night of heavy drinking or who plans to attend a Nats game–which itself may call for some pre-drinking preparation by the rules of some. The presence these groups can make for a rowdy and consequently unpleasant train ride.
Saturday was even worse than usual. As soon as I stepped on the train, I realized that I was standing amidst a group of guys who saw the car as a place for unrestrained free expression of obnoxious proportions. They conversed in boastful, cocky tones, and their derisive laughter carried unavoidably. One jumped up and grabbed the bar at the top of the car meant for the grip of taller passengers and began doing chin-ups. From the other side of me, a girl inexplicably chose to exacerbate the situation by yelling, “Ten bucks if you do ten!”
For four more stops, I was condemned to this miserable ride, I thought, as I made the requisite but unheeded glares and eye rolls at this crowd. Just another frustrating weekend on Metro.
Then suddenly, the boom of a voice from a man I had not noticed earlier jolted the riders: “There’s a noise level on this train!” The tools looked stunned. “You heard me, this train has a noise level! Some of us had to work last night!” my new savior boomed again. The group regained their bearings and began to up their defiance. One chose to be the wise-ass and retorted back, “There’s a noise level for you.” The tall, skinny black man and the red-faced white guys, plus their blond, female companion began to argue. The debaucherous group would not let this man’s loud protests go. “It’s a public place, we’re allowed to talk,” the haughty blond asserted defiantly. She seemed to forget that a public place also means that one is supposed to be considerate of others.
This squabble continued unproductively. Other bystanders, including myself, looked squarely at members of the group and told them to be quiet. Rather than stoking this understandably tired and angry man, couldn’t they just diffuse the episode by shutting the hell up? Why did they need to try to be “right?”
What unsettled me a bit about the whole incident was how the group seemed to act as if the rest of the train would side with them because they were up against a lesser kempt, black man. Obviously, I don’t know whether that was true, but I wonder if had someone like me protested their noise, would they have treated me as if I were a threatening presence? Of course, the man did himself no favors by yelling, but then again, he brought to attention just how obnoxious these self-righteous guys were.
What got to me the most was when the blond girl argued against the man’s remark that he had worked last night by saying, “we work five days a week, okay?” I’m sorry, but anyone who works a night shift anywhere has priority over someone who works an office job. Circumventing one’s circadian rhythm and being up at those dark, lonely hours is a lot harder than going to work during the day when everyone else is doing the same. People who make cities more unpleasant than they need to be don’t deserve to be a part of the social contract.
“[A] group of guys who saw the car as a place for unrestrained free expression of obnoxious proportions.”
Substitute “country” for “car,” and you’ve pretty much described the USA! I don’t know who purportedly raises the loud, rude, middle class mediocrities who seem to be ubiquitous in public places, but we can only hope that if they don’t get a physical beat down at some point by a man like the one described above, life itself will do the trick. But that may be too optimistic: a lot of American adults act just as badly. It would help, though, if society started censuring heavy drinking as the personally and socially destructive act that it is, as well as frowning on acts of stupid male bravado.
Michael Blaine
http://www.rudelystamped.blogspot.com
great post ~ glad that group of rowdies got their comeuppance, at least somewhat!
Seems to be a product of a culture that always proclaims that individuals have their rights but never responsibilities. However, you’ve obviously added in additional meaning which may or may not be there by looking at it through the dark glass of the progressive trinity of race, class and gender. I’ve been on plenty of Metro rides where the rowdy “debauchers” were neither white nor from Virginia. Age might have more to do with it than anything else.
Well, I didn’t bring gender into this, but race and class was relevant here, because the black man clearly had a working class/service job of some sort that had kept him working the night shift, and the rowdy group seemed not to comprehend that. Of course, being loud and obnoxious is not confined to any one race or class, as I too have seen on the Metro, but this rowdy group’s insensitivity to the lone man’s obvious fatigue seemed particularly oblivious. I agree too that there is so little emphasis in modern American society on being considerate.
Gender is implicit…you describe the involvement of females in stronger terms: random girl “inexplicably..exacerbate[s]” the situation, while you refer to the girl accompanying the guys as “blond” or “the haughty blond” and you are most incensed by her remark at the end of the situation. Perhaps you have something against women who have been been born with blonde hair or who are unfortunate enough to think they need to dye their otherwise brown hair blonde??
Oy, give me a break.
Heh…deconstruction is fun…ridiculous, but fun.
sadistic, but fun. heh