What Can I Do?

Halloween. A time for candy. A time for costumes. A time for friends, frolicking, and fun. Halloween, however, is also a time for traveling with the MBTA.

Some friends and I decided we wanted to go to Salem, Massachusetts and participate in the town's notorious Halloween festivities. In order to get there, I had to utilize two MBTA transportation methods: the T and the Commuter Rail. As always, riding inside these trolleys of terror sparked some thoughts in my head.

When boarding the train, naturally you would want to find a seat. When you're with some friends it becomes even more desirable to find seats so you can all sit comfortably and gab (Yes, I used the word gab). Finding two adjacent seats is hard enough, let alone finding three, four, or five. For the sake of this post, lets stick to two. You and your friend walk down the aisle, hoping there are two spare seats.

Yay! There are two seats, but they are not adjacent...what do you do? I have created a graphic to better illustrate the situation.

Here, the red dots signify T passengers sitting in a seat. The black dots signify you and your friend, looking desperately for a place to sit.

We've all been in this situation before. You could sit down, but you and your friend would be separated by that old woman with a trash-bag full of soda cans muttering to herself "Come and get me, come and get me." No one wants that. If you're separated you can't talk, and if you can't talk, then why sit at all?

In my humble estimation, it is only common courtesy that the person who is sitting with two empty seats on either side of him should move over to allow the pair of people to sit down together. This is illustrated here, in figure 2:

As you can see, if one "red dot" slides over, then you and your friend can sit next to each other. Now, I know everyone hates sitting next to strangers. And, the mere thought of sliding over and coming into contact with another human being is quite frightening. But for the sake of human decency, just slide over!


Aside from this observation, I was also reminded of another T Phenomenon that really irks me. I call it: "The Premature Exit." The Premature Exit is an act that many of us, including myself, have probably performed at one time or another. It is a common mistake, especially for amateurs of the T.

Here's an example of a Premature Exit.

You're standing up, holding the germ-infested metal bar above your head. The T is already crowded. There's barely room to breathe. Over the loudspeaker, the angry driver informs the passengers that the T is "Now entering _______. Doors will open on the right."

Suddenly, some squirrely looking college freshman starts shoving you from behind. There's a sense of nervousness and anxiety. "Uhh, excuse me. Comin' through!" Obviously, he's going to need to get out at this upcoming stop; however, so do you! You know, though, that you don't need to start making your way to the door until the doors actually open. There's no need to push people out of your way to get to the doors that aren't even open yet.

To be fair, this action is condoned only if you're riding on an inbound, above-ground train where the doors only open at the front. In this case, if you're in the back, you have to start making your way to the front or else the T might just drive off before you've had a chance to exit.

In conclusion, I'd like to say that much of the etiquette required to enjoy a ride on the T are simply common sense and mutual respect for your fellow passengers. When riding on a T, just look around yourself and ask the question, "What can I do to make this a happier place?"