Technically train surfing involves riding or climbing on the outside of a moving train, but any city commuter using public transport will probably have experienced a different kind of train surfing- the it-is-rush-hour-and-there-is-no-space-left-on-this-train-much-less-a-free-hand-hold kind of train surfing.
If you have no idea what I'm talking about, it is likely that you spend your commute in a properly air conditioned (or at least ventilated) car, rather than packing yourself tight as a sardine into a train/subway carriage, where you have to stand with your face in some one else's armpit for the journey home. Or, more likely, you are from California and the only train or subway you've experienced is in an airport or movie.
Yesterday, I had to leave work on time (5pm) so that I had time to buy, make and eat dinner before heading off to our bible study. When I left a few minutes after 5pm, because I just couldn't tear myself away from that last email, the race was on. I ran to the nearest grocery store, only to find that they didn't have any of the things I planned on buying, and with lines forming at the tills, I quickly opted to ditch our dinner plans for Plan B (take out from the new burrito place, which is mercifully located on the way to the train station). Grabbing our burritos and salsa, I ran and arrived at the train station sweating, glanced at the departure board out of the corner of my eye and hurried my way to the platform for my train, which was set to leave in just 30 secs. Since I rarely catch the train home so early, I had forgotten the crowd of people that awaited me, all just as eager to get home as I was.
I barrelled my way through the station, swerving to avoid umbrellas, strollers and loitering packs of teenagers (you may think I'm being sarcastic here, but seriously the train station is apparently the place to be if you are 17 or under). I just made it as the doors started closing and realised that my only option was to somehow squeeze myself into the masses of people already packed onto the train. Then as the train took off, smashed between Girl-with-extremely-large-bag and Man-with-kindle, I realised there was not a hand hold within arms reach (or at least not one that wasn't going to require extreme 'twister-like' skills to use). I was going to have to train surf my way home.
My version of train surfing means maintaining your balance on a moving train, while holding all your belongings and obeying the complexities of train etiquette, which prohibits the touching of other passengers and requires that everyone mind their own business and try as hard as possible to stay equal distances apart. Man-with-kindle clearly hadn't mastered train surfing, because he was so engrossing in his book, that he kept drifting my direction and jamming his elbow in my back. I tried to adjust my position to avoid him, but Girl-with-extremely-large-bag was taking up the space of at least 2 people and I wasn't left with much room to maneuver. There were two strollers filled with crying babies behind me (along with a dozen other train surfers), people opening newspapers up into other passengers' faces, and the sheer volume of screaming and loud iPod music made my head ache, only I couldn't raise my arms enough to rub my temples.
To make matters worse, the heating was stuck on high again (a phenomenon that only seems to happen on warmer days), which meant it was stuffy and everyone was sweating. Some one asked an old lady to open the window next to her and let some fresh air in, but she didn't want to sit in a draft...
Twelve long minutes later, I made it to my stop, stepped into the fresh Scottish air and left the commuting chaos behind (at least until morning).
All I can say is, thank God for public transport- driving home alone in a car must be so uneventful!
