When you catch public transport a lot, as I do ('catch' being a very good word for it, in these winter months of uncovered sneezes and used tissues stuffed into seat crevices), you become very adept at the various skills needed to survive this daily frustration.
One of these skills is that of Seat Repositioning. It should be your aim to climb the ladder throughout your allotted journey, to overcome a lowly position and strive for the best one at your disposal.
You may very well aboard your crowded train and start right at the bottom rung, (perhaps standing in the middle of the vestibule, with a guide dog laying on your feet, an environmentally thoughtful persons' bicycle jutting into your back, someone elses' massive newspaper opened wide with the edge of the business section paper cutting your neck, and without a pole anywhere in reach to keep you from tumbling downstairs).
But within twenty minutes, and some deft, opportunistic seat-hopping, you can be right where you want to be. That corner vestibule seat with a wall on one side, and an uncomfortable seat join on the other, effectively acting as a deterring moat or force field to any would-be neighbours. Thus, your morning Everest has been successfully scaled, and you can be proud of a job well done.
However, where the label of Skill is transcended, and elevates into the territory of Art, is in considering the importance of timing. Any vaguely observant pleb can seat-hop with an acceptable degree of success. But it is only the true artisans who truly know about timing. When to hold them, and when to fold them.
Seat-hop too late and you've missed your boat. Some other bloke's got your spoils. But,(and this is a Big Butt with two t's) seat-hop too soon, and you face other consequences. An unnaturally warm seat. This can be highly disconcerting. Body-heat is a great thing. Your body-heat. Someone else's body-heat is not.
It is to be avoided at all costs. Many times in my journey of learning this art, I have stumbled with over-keenness, finding myself with a strange warmness seeping through the vinyl and up into my pant-seat. A chill runs up my spine. This, friends, should not be. You need to allow as much time as you can afford, for adequate seat-cooling.
Thus, timing is the key. Don't dawdle, but don't rush either. Spy your opening, and then hold....hold....hold..... and POUNCE!
Huldra Forsvant (Theodor Kittelsen)
Huldra Forsvant (Theodor Kittelsen)
4 comments:
Aha! Finally a subject very close to my heart! I strive to perfect this skill every morning in the innerwest rush hour train. It requires all of your inventive deployment skills and brain goes into over-active mode as you plan your move and counter-move around the vestibule of the train. I daresay your first move should start from the platform; and your positioning behind the yellow line yields significantly variant results once you are in the train.
Very good point. Congratulations, I see that you have studied hard, and have earned your stripes.
Hi. Very thoughtful and helpful post. I have always wondered if other people have naturally hotter bottoms than I, to leave such a lot of residual seat warmth. Or if it is an illusion created by the transfer of sitters.
Thanks for stopping by, Jess. Interesting conundrum.
My scientific guess would be that a bottom feels less hot (to it's owner) than it actually is from outside. So to you, it doesn't feel unusually warm, yet were you to sit on a slice of bread, you could end up with a slice of toast after a minute or two.
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