The Stranger On The Train

It is infinitely preferable to be seated next to someone attractive whilst travelling on public transport. Now, just so as you aren’t jumping to the conclusion that this is a perverted narrative, let me qualify that by indicating that given the choice between the company of one foul odoured and morbidly overweight individual and another who can be comfortably seated in the space available and brings with them a feint aroma of the finest fragrances that nature has ever produced, my own presumption is that the vast majority of travellers would choose the latter. As a side note, I hope that any bad smelling large people reading this may now consider some fine perfume as part of their personal presentation and if you are a pleasant smelling larger person through no desire of your own then I wish you the greatest of fortunes in your travels and as much personal space as I myself desire.

On most journeys, usually from ones home to ones work or school the fair majority of other travellers are of absolutely no consequence to anyone else, at least where I’m from anyhow. The men are often going through the pages of a newspaper, the women are reading novels or magazines or re-affirming their appearance intently with a compact. The school children are mostly talking about either themselves or a friend who’s absent. Being a man of habit, I would generally attempt to secure the same seat every day, and go through the news of the day. I’ve found it interesting over the years that if one remains steadfast in their habits, that one may begin to take a macroscopic view of their surroundings. The habits and personalities of complete strangers may reveal themselves to another person given a long enough time in the same coincidental company.

Most of my time spent travelling to and from work, I pass the time either joining the ranks of the broadsheet brigade or taking in a chapter of a novel I’m reading, having a small nap or observing those around me. Let me say this about the latter; being a fairly private person myself, I always try my best to have my observations go unnoticed lest I be thought of as a nosy busy body. Now from here on you may think what you will of this humble narrator as it is of absolutely no consequence to me whatsoever, and furthermore I think many people would be completely untruthful if they said they truly never at all concerned themselves with any of their fellow travellers. Most of my fellow commuters are usually very unassuming types with not very many points of interest for me to expand upon here, though occasionally some individuals do pique ones interest. They may be the morbidly obese fishmonger who’s evidently had far too much cheese for lunch and those people I’m inclined to change my seat if there are any left available. They may be a delicate young lady with a neatly pressed blouse and brings with her a smell of a freshly cut bouquet.

On occasion I have found myself completely inattentive of the world around me as I’m focused intently on the subtle differences in shade, and the way that the sun brings out the colours of a woman’s hair who’s taken a seat in front of me. In my half drowsy state in the morning, I’m inclined to let my mind wander and not focus on anything in particular. I’ll lose myself in the range of hair colors of a blonde haired woman might have. White, yellow, brown shades and the finer hairs where her hairline might end, although I could get lost in any particular color at all. I’ll notice the smooth skin of her neck and shoulders if they’re bare. Depending on the time of year, one might notice dryer tanned skin or freckles. At this point I’ve realised that I’ve been daydreaming too long and I ought to finish reading the story in the paper, or observe the world outside the carriage window for a while.

I’ve also in my time taken an interest in many a young woman who’s sat in the opposite direction, facing the rest of the passengers and often wondered what she’s thinking, especially if there were available seats faced the same way as the rest of us. More often than not it will be opposite a friend who’s travelling with her, and I always find it interesting to observe how they may amuse each other. Other times they might be alone but talking to someone on the telephone, and this tends to be fairly animated regardless of the topic. Neither of these may be the case and out of sheer curiosity I might take an interest as discreetly as I can quickly glance so as not to be thought of as staring. I remember noticing one woman in particular who appeared to have absolutely no facial expression at all and I wondered if her thoughts were just as clear. Usually though she’ll appear herself to be avoiding any one thing to focus on, and perhaps with a slight expression of frustration be running over the order of the day in her mind. I sometimes suspect that particularly for the more well presented ladies who sit opposite the majority of the passengers, that she enjoys the attention of others and uses her body language to draw it.

Dear reader, it is here that I should like to assert that I am one to keep my thoughts private and I am a discrete person. I think there are far too many people in the world who overstep social boundaries without my adding to anyones personal discomfort. So you may find it unnerving to think that you or an unsuspecting person going about their day may hold the fascination of a total stranger. I’ll wager though that I’m merely the only one telling a story about it. Now, I’ll have been otherwise distracted and not paying attention to anyone else on board - as if in my own private carriage when we come to the next stop. From the corner of my eye, just as she’s sat next to me I’ll have only just noticed what could have been an extraordinarily beautiful woman. It shouldn’t matter to me who’s just sat down but now I’m pre-occupied by the matter. One thing that I find difficult to tolerate is to be sat next to someone who takes no pride in their presentation and on more than one occasion I’ve removed myself from the company of such people at the first available opportunity so as not to make a fuss or embarrass anybody.

At this point without drawing attention to myself, I can see from the corner of my eye that this is a young lady who is dressed rather well. She is dressed in smart business clothing and has sheer black stockings on. I can also see her hand occasionally and her fingers are long, thin and feminine. Her nails are well manicured and varnished. I quickly turn my head and look out the window. The seats on this carriage are rather compressed so this woman is sat right up against me which I don’t mind in the slightest. Her thigh and upper arm are pleasantly warm and it has been a cool morning. I’m not about to get covered with dust or dirt from a labourer, and she doesn’t smell of naphthalene. In fact although very subtle, I could swear I detect a note of vanilla which wasn’t in the air previously. For the time being I turn to the entertainment section of the newspaper to read my horoscope. My stop is next.

Just as I’m turning the pages and coming to the astrology section, the woman next to me has stood up and positioned herself by the door ready to alight. I must be nearer to my stop than I’d thought, although looking out the window there was still some time yet and nobody else had moved. I decide not to get up right away lest it appear that I am following this woman. I can see now though that she has brown straight hair the colour of dark chocolate. Looking about, I am anxiously awaiting somebody else to get up so that I might slip in behind them and with the shuffling of people readying themselves to disembark I may catch a glimpse of this young lady’s face. One gets up and they make their way to the door, so I get up and make my way to the door as well. As I am getting up, someone in front of the person in front of me has gotten up and also proceeded towards the door, and another is coming from the opposite direction. Through the movement of people I try my best to catch a glimpse of the young woman but just as she turns her head toward me, a large tall man has blocked my path of sight.

We’re all crowded against the door of the train and all I can see is the elbow of the young woman just as we’re about to get off. There seem to be just as many people trying to get on at this stop. I’ve never known my stop to be so crowded as it was this particular day. We all alight and I try to catch a glance at her but she’s much farther ahead now and heading up the stairs. By the time I’d reached the top of the stairs, she was nowhere in sight. This day I can only conclude that the young lady indeed does not have a face at all.

Reviews

[Angel Bird]

Too much of a gentleman, (or maybe too much of a guilty 'voyeur' in a nice way ;-) to grab a chance to learn to know an interesting person... That was no luck.
But you are right - it can be so interesting and also very amusing sometimes only to observe peoples behaviors and appearances and very important anyway their smells.
This is a great, interesting and thought provoking write. Thanks for sharing