Morning Commute

The daily ritual of the morning commute often provides an arena to observe the variants of human behavior. We all have our traits: those who sit on the subway gabbing into their phone at obnoxious levels, others who eat their breakfast, spitting and spilling about with no regard, those who are oblivious to the concept of personal space.

Annoyances and disturbances are common, sometimes even comical. But lack of humanity, that is a sudden gust that stops you in your tracks as the train continues to roar along.

A.M. rush hour is typically the safest time of day to travel. The rails are crowded, the sky is bright. It’s not the time you expect anything out of the ordinary.

Today, though, was different. As I sat on my usual subway at an early, barely light, hour, we passed a station not too far from my home. As I sat on the citybound train, prepared to break out my new issue of Time Out New York, I glanced out the window, and noticed what appeared to be a ruckus across on the opposite platform.

At first glance, it was rough-housing. On second, it was clearly a struggle — an elderly man fruitlessly attempting to hold on to his computer bag as two teenagers ripped it away from him. In the struggle, the man fell, and the assailants ran down the steps, presumably, out of the station.

And our train continued to roll on.

All morning, as I worked, my thoughts returned to what I had seen. The man, abandoned — how did he get home? Did anyone ever help him? The thugs, I assume are off enjoying their newfound gadgets. Did they steal for a reason? Did they feel this would assuage some need of theirs? Or was this… fun? I do not understand people.

My initial thought was that, for me, this was a sign to move elsewhere. Sadly though, I’m pretty sure there is no elsewhere insolent amorality and evil is hindered.