The Silenced Cellphone

Solidarity is fairly unique in that it can establish a bond within a group of seemingly unrelated people.  The commuter experience offers a taste of solidarity just like a movie trailer offers you a taste of a good movie. It groups a bunch of people together, under the same circumstances, with essentially the same goal; to get to where they need to be when they need to be there in the least unpleasant way possible.

Of course there are disturbances, acts of God that cannot be fought, like switch problems or bad weather. Sometimes, though, these disturbances are not acts of God but acts of man and it is an act of God that disrupts them.  One group of commuters was subjected to such an act but at the same time became part of a fantastically impromptu moment of movie trailer solidarity. 

           
Cell phones.  We all know not to use them during the commute unless it is absolutely necessary and when it is to make it as quiet and brief as possible.  This is obviously not a perfect system and at times riders subject the rest of us to all of the wild trivialities that constitute their daily lives.  All items of great importance but hopelessly irrelevant to the 30 other people huddled into the same big metal box; these types of calls don’t happen often and many of them are easily ignored by cranking your music up to 11.  Sometimes, though, there is a call that is so hilariously and blatantly obnoxious it becomes impossible to ignore.  It’s the Desperate Housewives effect.  People actually lower the volume of their music so they can listen in a little better to the unyieldingly public drama of the deviant call. 

            
On this particular occasion the culprit had managed to attract the ire of an entire car in the 5 minutes between boarding the train and leaving the station.  Riders were beginning to glance around at each other.  The swift eye movements from one seasoned commuter to another silently screaming, “This lady can’t be serious.”

            
The call continued for another five or ten minutes before something utterly awe inspiring took place.  The act of God I mentioned earlier finally came in the form of a tunnel.  As we entered I quickly realized this was the moment we had all been waiting for.

“Hello? Hello?  Stacy”

Ladies and Gentlemen, the call had been dropped.  Justice had been served and karma had won the day.  This would generally be more than enough to right my spirits for the remainder of the trip but this commute was about to get exponentially more amusing thanks to one intrepid rider.  It started somewhat faintly, one lone clap in the midst of the crowded rush hour train.  Soon there were two, then three, until the majority of passengers had happily jumped on board with the most sarcastic group clap I have ever had the pleasure of joining.  Solidarity, my friends, brought to you by the wonderfully mind-numbing obligation that is the daily commute.