The Commuter and the Bearer of Joy

Shari walked calmly toward the train station while everyone around her was a blur of activity. People almost ran her over in their quest to catch the train idling on the tracks. Shari was almost tempted to slow her steps to force the frustration of those around her, but it might be too early to be that petty.

She readjusted her laptop bag on her shoulder and took measured steps toward the escalator, positioning herself on the right side and remaining stationary. It was an unspoken rule that the people on the right of the escalator, like the right side of the road, were meant to go slower. She heard a couple people suck their teeth when they realized she had no intention of climbing the steps. She scrolled through her phone and ignored the dirty looks some people aimed her way as they passed by her.

Be mad all you want to, she thought to herself, won’t make me move any faster.

Shari smiled to herself as she remembered being just like her fellow commuters. Wearing her stockings and tennis shoes with her power suit and carrying her pumps, and carrying no less than three bags that carried her laptop, lunch, and various knickknacks she just had to bring to the office. She used to wake up extra early just to paint her face and brew a 60oz cup of coffee. She too would run to the train to make sure she didn’t miss it so she could arrive to work early and ready to be productive.

That was before Shari realized that none of it was worth it.

After over a decade in the workforce, she saw how most companies only saw their employees as a number. They didn’t care how enthusiastic you were, they didn’t care if you were happy or fulfilled. They cared about their bottom line and if you couldn’t meet that, then they had access to various job boards to find a replacement quicker than you can file for unemployment.

Now, she chose her own joy and peace over being the very best.

Her three bags had dwindled to one and she noticed the pain in her back had gradually disappeared. Heels of any kind were a thing of the past as she donned flats or her trusted tennis shoes on a daily basis. She loved her job but was no longer willing to forego her own peace just to punch a clock.

When she got to the top of the escalator, she walked to the platform and listened to the operator announce that the doors were closing. She snagged a seat furthest away from the door and after a quick prayer asking God to protect her on her journey, Shari took a deep breath and gazed out of the window.

On days she went into the office, this was her favorite part. Watching the world whiz by gave her a sense of comfort and allowed her the chance to clear her mind. She easily ignored the babies crying and the click clack of businessmen typing on their laptops. The train filled up quickly with men and women holding on to poles with one hand while scrolling on their phones with the other. 

Throughout her hour-long commute, different people of all ages and races came and went and sat beside her, stood behind her, or just lingered in her line of sight. She avoided eye contact with the best of them and took out her e-reader to catch up on the trashy erotic novel she had just downloaded.

She was just getting to the part when the heroine ripped the shirt off of a man, his buttons flying in every direction, when the train abruptly jolted forward. Then it shuddered to a halt in a tunnel and the lights flickered.

Shari lazily lifted her eyes to the fluorescent lighting and looked around at her fellow passengers. She saw them checking their watches for the time and looking out the windows to see what could be the cause of the delay.

As the minutes ticked by with no announcement from the train operator, the murmurings started getting louder. Shari felt the tension rising in the car and knew that with each ticking minute, the temperature in the enclosed train would slowly rise until it became difficult to breathe. She watched people start to fan themselves and looking irate and frustrated.

Without giving it a second thought, she pulled out her phone and pulled up one of her favorite playlists of old school songs from the 70s and 80s. She turned the volume all the way up and stood on her seat so people in the back of the train car could hear the music clearly.

The crowd slowly stopped talking and they all turned to stare at her. Shari could feel her skin getting hotter and knew a telltale red blush was evident on her face. However, she was never one to back down. She stared back and hesitantly bopped to the beat of the music and hummed along with Diana Ross as she sang “I’m Coming Out.”

Some commuters turned back to their own phones and turned their backs on Shari. But most started tapping their feet, nodding their heads, and the boldest sang along. It wasn’t a full-on party, but people had at least loosened up and were distracted, even for a moment.

The playlist transitioned to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” and the early commuters got even more animated. It became a sing along and Shari smiled from ear to ear.

The first musical strains of Elton John’s “I’m Still Standing” started playing when the train operator finally came over the PA system to announce the train was moving. The crowd cheered and Shari sat back in her seat and turned the music off.

As soon as the train made it out of the tunnel, everyone went back to their former positions: heads down, staring at their phones, and avoiding eye contact with everyone around them.

Shari put her phone away, took a sip of water, and turned her e-reader back on, all while humming softly to herself.