some actual humans work for the T

[danceboy]

I was heading home from dancing in Harvard Square and as I went through the turnstiles, I heard the characteristic squeal of a train attempting to miss me and (because I live after the red line split) is going to Ashmont. I flew down the stairs. Literally, I jumped down each flight, and got to the doors as they closed. I turned to where the (? person who looks out to make sure that no one is caught in the doors ?) was, but she was already looking the other direction to close the other half of the doors.

She turned back, and, as I was trying to formulate a good set of puppy dog eyes, the doors opened.

I got on, took it to Ashmont where I finally got the chance to thank her. She seemed surprised that I did...

Comments

[queen-of-wands.livejournal.com]

See, you clearly don't know the rules. In Boston you are not supposed to be friendly with service workers of any kind. Public places like trains heighten this: you're not supposed to be friendly with anyone. Sometimes I like to get on the T during rush hour and watch how everybody avoids acknowledging that they're smashed up against each other. I think I get some kind of sick pleasure out of the fact that they have to touch other people.