The C is for Crank
Another Reason For Two-Car Trains
Regular readers know I'm apt to get cranky about the fact that Sound Transit runs one-car trains on nights and weekends. (The move, which often results in cars overcrowded with luggage, bikes and people, is expected to save about half a million dollars a year---a pindrop in a budget of billions).
After work one day last week, riding a two-car train, I (re) discovered another reason reducing train lengths isn't worth the money: Two-car trains give riders an easy out when their fellow riders make them feel uncomfortable. I was riding in the back of the train, trying to read a book, when an older fellow sat down next to me, spilling across the seat and almost into my lap. He started talking to me, asking increasingly intrusive questions ("What's that book about? Did you go to college? How old are you?," and crowding my space. After the usual bus-space-invasion lines ("If you don't mind, I'd like to go back to reading my book;" "I'm not interested in having a conversation right now") didn't work, I got up, hopped off the car, saying, "This is my stop," and then boarded the other car.
Passive-aggressive? Maybe. But as much hassle as a daily transit rider has to endure already, it was worth it. And knowing that mild annoyances on transit can quickly escalate to dangerous situations---harassment, violence, or worse---I was glad to have the option of getting away, without having to get off the train altogether.
After work one day last week, riding a two-car train, I (re) discovered another reason reducing train lengths isn't worth the money: Two-car trains give riders an easy out when their fellow riders make them feel uncomfortable. I was riding in the back of the train, trying to read a book, when an older fellow sat down next to me, spilling across the seat and almost into my lap. He started talking to me, asking increasingly intrusive questions ("What's that book about? Did you go to college? How old are you?," and crowding my space. After the usual bus-space-invasion lines ("If you don't mind, I'd like to go back to reading my book;" "I'm not interested in having a conversation right now") didn't work, I got up, hopped off the car, saying, "This is my stop," and then boarded the other car.
Passive-aggressive? Maybe. But as much hassle as a daily transit rider has to endure already, it was worth it. And knowing that mild annoyances on transit can quickly escalate to dangerous situations---harassment, violence, or worse---I was glad to have the option of getting away, without having to get off the train altogether.