One day I am going to get myself in trouble for this. My watching people on the train. Someone is going to catch me with the notes app in my phone and say - “oy, what are you looking at”.
I like to imagine this is a real job, writing stories to capture a city based just on things I see on public transport.
The days are getting slightly longer, lighter minute by minute. But still it’s dark outside. The train rolls out, on it’s way to the same place over and over again each day.
Every time I catch the train I usually see some familiar faces, the humans of the train line that goes past my house. Each carriage like a bag of mixed lollies, shaken up and mashed together for that ride to the city.
I don’t see the same person on the 7.05 anymore, I actually wonder if I will ever see him again, maybe he drives now instead of catching the train. The man who always read books that I had read too.
During the peak morning commute, I think of all the trains converging to this central point. From the air, like a marching line of ants all heading up the same hill.
I can only count 2 women when I get on today. I don’t sit down even though there are available seats. I stand in the middle, it’s one of those conjoined carriages I can see all the way to the end, at least 40 rows which makes for some good noticing.
There are still plenty of seats, more people cram themselves in, step over peoples bags and baggage, and lunch totes, and all the belongings they have with them on the train.
I see a passenger wearing a mask, like we all wore in covid times. It’s hard to imagine we believed we couldn’t leave the house and walk around the block without that mask on, like every piece of breathable air was a life threatening contagion. Even if you did not encounter another human, we started to fear being outside, and then slowly we feared every person. It always gives me a little shock to see people wearing them now, but as they say “the body keeps a score” and maybe their fear just never left them.
There is a woman with about 6 phone charms hanging off her phone, one is the yellow sunshine care bear which makes me smile.
It’s still dark outside the windows the sun not yet up on this wintery morning, there is a young child maybe 10 or 11 sitting by himself watching something on a phone held sideways. He seems so little in the carriage full of adults off to go about their day, probably to jobs in big tall towers. He seems so little to be here alone, but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind, just laughs at the cartoon on the sideways phone.
Another man is using his work headset as headphones, the microphone is twisted up to the side of his head, like when you are on a meeting don’t have to speak.
I can see a beanie towards the middle of the carriage that looks hand made, crochet resembling a tea cosy. The lady wearing this beanie is also knitting, a crafty type using the commute for creativity. Then her shoes catch my eye under the seats, neon rainbow sneakers. I know that brand, it’s Kurt Geiger, a rainbow lovers delight.
The train comes to a station, a man so tall he has to duck his head through the door takes the hand of a lady so short I could have almost missed her amongst the crowd. Off into the world they go.
There is a another woman who gets on and chooses to stand even though there are still seats available, she keeps looking out the window. Peering around the edge of the frame. Looking from this side to that. Looking to see what the sky has for us to see today.
The reflection of the sunrise on the other side of the carriage lights up pink and orange. I guess that’s what the window peeping passenger was waiting to see.
It strikes me that the way the handles move is almost hypnotic. The most mundane things are stunning to the sound of a piano soundtrack.
A man sitting across from me has dropped his phone 3 times. He’s half asleep, half awake. Just not quite enough energy to hold his phone steady. High -vis vest on, lunch in a Coles re-usable shopping bag. I remember when they banned plastic bags, everyone was so mad. What a bother, what an inconvenience, having to change the behaviour, having to think ahead. Now those bags are everywhere, people use them to port their lives around. For camping to commuting and everything in between. This high-vis man, beanie pulled down low to his eyes.
There is a woman doing her make up on the move. It’s ludicrous when you think about it that we were conditioned with this ritual each day. That we don’t just wake up and look in the mirror and think, ok great - this is me, lets go. That we primp and preen and try to accentuate all the things. There is a woman on the train doing her make up and you notice the funny faces we pull when we do these things. The pursed lips, the open gape as we concentrate on getting our eyeliner straight. Feels like an invasion of privacy really to see these small faces as she gets ready for her day in a tiny hand held mirror. The final touch, the colour of her lips. The brightest red, making her eyes light up on her face.
I have a whole other essay I wanted to write about that. Women who wear make up vs those who don’t. A story for another time.
We are getting to the point where there are no seats left or just those that people are afraid to ask for. Too squishy, too awkward to move into, which side of your body do you put in someones face as you try maneuver in, better to just let it go some decide. The ones with people spilling into multiple seats, bags, jackets, legs spread akimbo.
Another lady is fixing her hair, combing it and pressing a fringe into place. Do men carry these tiny little hand held mirrors as well. Do they ever wonder about the state of their face after they have left home for the day. Do they check their teeth or their hair?
One of these days I am probably going to get myself in trouble. Someone is going to notice me noticing and taking notes on my phone. Someone is going to say “what are you looking at” with a tone that won’t be so friendly.
The train stopped at a station. The main one that is our destination. A procession of people get off. I look up, look people over, look for little clues, tiny trinkets for my stories.
One guy caught me. Eye contact was made. He looked at his lunch bag, then back to me and smiled. It was a small little exchange. I guess sometimes I do get caught. But no one really knows where to look. And they certainly don’t ask any questions, so it looks like my noticing is safe for now.
Thanks for reading my Sunday essay. I hope you are having a great weekend wherever you are. Another week is upon us. Look for the tiny romantic moments wherever you can.