An Expectation of Muteness on the Trolley

03/18/07


Although some may disagree with me, I think San Diego has a great trolley system. Okay, maybe not great, but it’s convenient and I don’t have to worry about congested freeways or having to fight for one of the nonexistent parking spots in the Gaslamp Quarter. I often ride the trolley to work and this morning was no exception. However, something happened that was totally out of the ordinary.

Normally I don’t sit next to strangers because I have issues with my personal space being violated and am quite concerned with germs. Today I opted to stand even though there were seats available. A young woman, probably in her mid-twenties, got on at one of the downtown stops. I moved out of her way since I was standing in front of the door. I expected her to elbow her way past and find a seat like all the other passengers had done, but she didn’t. She paused and said hello.

One thing I dislike doing on the trolley is making eye contact with my fellow commuters. I find it very uncomfortable, because once eye contact is established, what do you do next? Talk to them? For me, idle chitchat with a stranger is even more distressing than the meeting of the eyes. When the woman said hello, I didn’t know what to do so I ignored her and looked the other way. Another reason, and probably the main reason, I avoid eye contact is there are a lot of unstable people who ride the trolley. It has been my experience that when I have made eye contact with a person not fully cognizant of reality, it will sometimes trigger his or her paranoia. The person will start yelling at me or ranting at their invisible friend. This bizarre behavior undoubtedly upsets the other passengers and makes for an incredibly tense ride, because no one can predict what the person will do next.

My next thought when the woman said hello was what did she want? Money? A ride to her sick mother’s house in Ramona? A cigarette? My phone number? I’ve been asked all of these things, and worse, at one time or another while on the trolley.

When I didn’t respond, the woman asked, “Why do you look so mad?” This time I couldn’t avoid her. She was standing within three feet of me breaching my required stranger-distance of five feet, which is rather unrealistic sometimes on a crowded trolley. I wasn’t angry, but sometimes I like to look unapproachable to avoid unwanted conversation, as in this case, but sometimes it doesn’t always work, also in this case. I casually commented I was still asleep and tried to laugh away my trepidations of having to interact with a complete stranger. She chatted at me for a moment before she moved on and started talking to someone else.

Her spontaneous hello was totally out of the ordinary. Then, thinking about that, I realized how total the ordinary was. It wasn’t just me who avoided conversation and eye contact on the trolley. There were many people with their noses in books or newspapers, sitting with eyes closed, or with heads down studying their coffee cups as if the Virgin Mary might suddenly appear in the foam of their cappuccinos.

At the next stop as more people squeezed through the doors I decided to conduct an experiment. I said hello to the first person that climbed the steps. A quick flicker of her eyes in my direction and a slight nod of her head, but nothing more. I tried it again at the next stop. This time I was rewarded with a grunt of sorts and a tremor of the lips, which I think was an attempt to smile. No one was eager to say hello, let alone have a conversation with me. Was I asking too much from this voiceless group of strangers when I expected a reply to my simple “hello”? So it seemed. Was I in violation of some unwritten code of conduct for trolley passengers? You bet and after some of the hostile looks I received, I wasn’t about to push the issue any further.

When the next group boarded, I didn’t even bother to acknowledge them. It was too exhausting to interact with someone whom I didn’t care about in the first place, let alone wouldn’t recognize the next time I rode the trolley. It was much easier and more acceptable to those around me to keep my eyes averted and feign indifference. As the trolley continued on, I stared mutely out the window looking at everything except the person in the adjacent seat, who wasn’t looking at me either.