I’ve been trying to push my limits lately, in terms of social interactions.
Normally, I’d only sit down on the train if I didn’t have to ask somebody to move. If I had to ask somebody to move, I would just stand for the whole ride. Lately, however, I’ve been fighting back against my own discomfort. I’m hoping to not overcompensate, but if I happen to, so be it. I really don’t care.
I’ve described the LIRR seating situation multiple times in the past, so I won’t be doing it again. To those who understand—great. To those who don’t, just Google “LIRR seats,” or something, so you have an idea of what seat type I’m referring to.
Today, all three-seaters had both ends occupied, meaning I’d have to sit in between two stooges. Not going to happen.
They had two three-seaters facing each other, which was completely vacant with the exception of one woman on the outside seat. You see, the reason these seats were vacant is because, as the train gets closer to the city, these seats will fill up, so you will be knee-to-knee with a stranger sitting directly across from you. For this reason, nobody sits here until it becomes too crowded to stand.
“Screw it,” I mumble to myself as I sat on the inside seat.
2 stops closer to the city, the train reaches maximum capacity. Waves of people pass by the open seats, but nobody wants to be knee-to-knee with a near-legal giant, so they grin and bear the claustrophobia of standing.
2 more stops. All seats in this double three-seater fill up, with the exception of the one directly across from me. One woman eyes the open seat. She takes a deep breath. “F*** it…” she says, as she steps over the knees of 4 other people sitting down in the double three-seater to sit directly across from me. Instinctually, my breathing stops. This is agonizing. She sits down. Our knees awkwardly touch, but neither of us acknowledges this.
The train begins moving. With every bump, our knees touch, and it is awful. I’m so uncomfortable. Why did I do this? Oh, yeah—I’m trying to push my limits. This was a dumb idea. I wish I just stood. I feel like I have to control my breathing in this seat because I’m nervous the people around me will hear my breathing and think to themselves, “why is this guy breathing so slowly and so heavily?” when the answer, simply put, is that I’m very uncomfortable.
What did I learn from this awful experience? Never sit down.
Until next time,
Michael J. Erickson, CEO & Co-Founder
