A very good morning

Well, we all figured the commute would be tough. I've got three people in my group coming from the hardest hit parts of the state, they're probably not going to be in today, and that's why I'm going in. I know I'll be covering seven or eight funds today, working with a skeleton staff, making-do. But man oh man, what a commute.

So I get to Oak Grove on the orange line at my normal time of 9:20-ish. There is one train sitting in the station, disabled. The platform is packed and I mean packed at least one trainload of people on the platform, plus another two cars worth of people inside the station most of whom were in line for dunkin donuts. There are people here that arrived at 7:00AM, and have been waiting next to (an aparently) disabled train, in the cold. I make my way down to the platform. It's not very cold out, it's actually pretty nice in the sun. So anyway, here comes another train. The doors open. Commuters pile in, on top of each other. The doors close. We are now in the train, almost full-up sitting in the station. The train doesn't move. Aparently there are problems with the brakes. We stay in the train for twenty minutes. No luck on the brakes. The conductor gets on the PA and tells everyone to please get off the train, move to the other train that is now abled. So we do, some groans, some laughs, mostly normal commuter grunting and shoving, nobody is really uspet (yet). The doors on the first car don't open. Our trainload of people have to pack into five cars instead of six. No problem, it's just a lot more crowded than normal. And then the late commuters appear. You know them, rushing to the train as the doors are shutting as it pulls out of the station on every other morning. They appear now, rushing as always and hitting a human wall of resistance as they try and claw their way onto the train. The passengers already on board near the doors are striving to keep them out, thinking "Hey buddy, I've had to wait, I've had to stand in the cold, I've had to switch trains...you don't get on that easy." But some make it anyway. The train is filled to capacity. The doors shut. The train doesn't move.

Five minutes. Groans, yells, complaining. The train starts...and rolls....and stops. And then, the train starts to pick up a little, we're gaining momentum, we're moving! A small relieved sigh escapes the throng. (sorry, almost wrote "thong" there, that would have changed the narrative).

We pull into Malden Station. Stop number two on the normal orange line route. The conductor applies the brakes, and we slowly sliiiiiiide right through the station. The folks waiting on the platform can't believe it. Here's our train, packed, I mean packed and they greet it with an amused cheer. "of course it's full, we've only been here two hours in the cold, and we were sort of expecting this." but now, to not even offer them a chance to cram their way onto the train? They can't believe it. I'm not sure but I may have seen an elderly gentleman in a business suit and overcoat throw a snowball at the train. The train continues to slow, past the station, and comes to a halt with the last car still on the platform. Our friendly conductor informs us we will be backing up to the station. Slowly. The doors open, no one can fit in. But wait, the last minute commuter in front of me who'd pried her way in at Oak Grove sees a friend on the platform! She yells "Misty, give me your hand! I'll pull you in!" Ah. If only everyone tried to be as helpful as Misty's friend. Commuting would be a joyous time of day. Last Minute stretches across the six people at the door and grasps Misty's hand, and pullllls. She's in! We're at least one person over capacity now, and don't forget to take into account everyone's big giant winter coats, at least doubling their personal volume. The doors close.

The next three stops are a joke. The train stops, the doors open no one gets on, no one gets off. No one could if they wanted to. Misty's friend starts yelling to the people on the platform "There's another train right behind us" The conductor announces to the waiting crowd at each station "The first car is disabled, please move to the second car" after the third station she adds "The second car is also pretty full" A woman next to Misty is starting to get disgruntled and mutters "No room. We're full." even as we travel between stations. The conductor begins to grow angry with the waiting masses on the platform. She begins yelling "Back away from the doors, the doors are closing! Back away from the doors, in english!" The folks on the train get a chuckle out of that, and then they fall silent again.

We make it to Community College. This is the first platform we've seen with less than a trainload of people waiting. In fact, there are only about fifty people. They look cold. They've been there since at least seven o'clock without seeing a train. They can't fit on, none even try. They watch us pull out slowly, and huddle back into their winter coats.

At long last, North Station, the first of the underground stops. Some people get off! A lesser number (or possibly an equal number of smaller people) get on. We have room to breath now. Still no room to move our arms or feet, but breathing is good. I see my friend Steph, who trained with me. We have a lovely chat, I never see anyone I know on the morning commute, this is turning into a pretty nice train ride. We pull into Haymarket, six people depart. We pull into State, ten more people disembark. We pull into Downtown Crossing, and it's packed, but it's ok because this is my stop. A rush of people empty the train and flow toward the exits, pushing the waiting crowd back and to the side, the pressure fills the platform and spews out the turnstiles into the street. I get spun around, disoriented, but I find the stairs, and climb them to the exit.

And it's beautiful. Gorgeous. White snow everwhere, hardly a car to be seen. Storefront gates and barricades, normally a rusted metal, now covered in snow with a crystal sheen. The air smells clean, there are no shoppers bustling about. The quiet is hypnotic, I stand on the sidewalk for a moment to take it in. My hands are warm in my new mittens, my feet dry. My hair, hanging in my eyes (since I'd foregone the winter hat). I crossed the street to my building, and felt totally invigorated.

-happy monday.
Tom

recommended download:
Good Charlotte, The Innocent