pushy

i just had a conversation with laura about train etiquette because of a riotous (but extremely long) article from new york magazine that hilary posted on her blog. we were sharing our personal pet peeves when it comes to the subway (hers: when someone won't move out of the way and allow you to hold onto something. mine: when someone's blocking the door of an empty train so that they can be sure to be the first ones off at the next stop.), and i discovered that my solution to both of them (to all of them, really) was just, "well i'd just shove them out of the way." someone's blocking the door? shove 'em. someone won't let you grab onto something? shove 'em. that pesky baby is taking up the last seat on the train with its stupid baby-carrier? shove 'em. i don't know when this all started, me being a pushy bastard, but it's pretty much limited to train travel. i don't walk down the sidewalk pushing over old ladies, but get us moving 35 miles per hour underground and it's every grandma for herself.

i write this because amanda and i went to her house in fairfield yesterday to celebrate hers and her aunt judy's birthdays. her aunt judy has a dog named kayla, a shih tzu with bows in its hair (bows that, judy tells me, come from a nice lady in oklahoma.) and its own room. it sits at the table with us during dinner and responds to commands like "go show auntie barbara your birthday bow." the dog is pushed around in a pram specifically designed for dogs. this isn't the point of this story, but you get the idea.

to get to amanda's house you have to ride an extremely crowded metro north train. i don't know why it's always so crowded, but by the time we get onto the train we inevitably have to fight for seats together. and they're usually those horrible seats where four people have to face each other, trying desperately not to bump knees, looking apologetic the whole time. as we were boarding the train yesterday, i moved out of the aisle into a seat, just momentarily, mind you, to let a man pass me. i hear a voice from behind me say, rudely, "someone is already sitting there." i turn on my heel, just like my mother, and say "i'm not sitting there. i'm moving out of the way to let this man past me." i said it very matter-of-factly, as if to say this is not a topic that is open for discussion. of course, the words were out of my mouth before i noticed that the little bitch giving me attitude was an 11-year-old black girl. oops.

and so, pushing my way onto the intensely crowded subway car this morning, i thought to myself, new york is making me pushy. it's making me be one of those people who shoves their way into places just because i feel like i have to. for the first three months i lived here, moving around the city was a very zen thing (like the old question, how many babies fit in the tire?). i just went where i had to go, listening to my ipod, letting the people swarm around me. lately, though, i find myself getting caught up in the flood. i gotta slow down.