I suppose we all have a duality to our personalities. Even as a Capricorn, the most grounded of signs, I continue to feel a pull from the 2 sides. I am intimidating/thoughtful, sorry/grateful, & grouchy/ gracious. I scorn society, but prefer cities for home & vacation. I have a loathing of crowds, but I spent half of my life working in front of an audience. I resent being told what to do, yet I am drawn to people with power & focus.
The Husband very much dislikes that I have taken on the task of teaching the world how to behave. He has begged me to stop doing this, especially while driving. I am not enchanted that it has fallen upon me to carry on in the giant footsteps of Emily Post & Miss Manners, but it must be done. Not many are speaking up in favor of proper public comportment in the new century.
Now that The Husband & I are living without an automobile, I am using Portland’s superior public transportation more than ever. On Wednesdays, when I am required (& you know how I dislike that) to be at company headquarters, my journey of 15 minute by car is now 1.5 hours on a bus. Not just any bus, but the dreaded #4, the longest route on Tri-Met, 35 + miles from St. John’s in North Portland to Gresham Transit Center 2 hours later.
The # 4 is not just an unusually long run, but the course zig-zags through the city & apparently there are several methadone clinics & mental health clinics on the route.
Last week, on boarding, even being close to the start of the line, the bus was seemingly filled to capacity. As I made my way politely through the passengers standing near the driver, I spotted plenty of available seats being occupied by purses & back packs. With nearly a dozen of us standing, I announced: “Excuse me everyone, & yes, I have theatre training, thanks for noticing, if you are providing your purse, backpack or bag with its own seat, you are breaking Tri-Met rules & you are simply being rude. There are passengers standing up because you are denying them a seat. Now, all of you pick up your belongings & acquiesce, so that those who wish, can sit down. No, really, I mean it!” I then chose an easy mark, a hipster with her tiny vintage clutch purse & a used copy of Jane Austin. “You, Jane Eyre… I wish to sit there, in the seat holding the possible, or most likely not, Dior purse. & all of you people standing; if you can not find a seat, you should move to the back of the bus to make room for those boarding! Don’t cluster at the front”
I took my seat next to Emma. I was content that my command had made the world a more comfortable & courteous place. I looked around to catch my “thumbs ups” & smiles from my fellow riders. Not one person had given up a seat, the cluster fuck was staring at me, & the driver glared in his mirror.
The other half of my personality? I recently had a black person explain to me that the most hurtful piece of racism that they dealt with each day was white people crossing to the other side of street, averting their eyes, or neglecting to speak when crossing paths. I was heartbroken & as I considered what he confided in me, I made a pledge, right there & then, to greet every person that I encountered with a hello or even a few words.
I have been actualizing this promise to myself. Today, I said good morning to the 9 people that I crossed paths with between my home & the MAX station. 5 smiled & greeted me with smiles & "good mornings", 2 tight assed neighbors said hello as if they just had an enema, & 2 human beings seemed a combination of irked, insulted or indignant. Still, I was made to feel lighter than air & I kept at it all day, in the store, on the MAX, at my neighborhood watering hole having a whiskey: "Good Morning", "Hello, autumn is here!", "You look really terrific." "Good evening." With every single encounter, I was cocksure that I was the one that was receiving the reward for the reciprocity.
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