In Transit

Thieves

A passenger on Chicago’s 55 bus was listening to his MP3 player when a man attempted to rip the device from his hands. The passenger held on, and the vexed thief jumped from the bus at the next stop. On another occasion, a passenger on the 55 bus had an expensive phone stolen, and watched helplessly as the thief dashed away into the Englewood neighborhood. A different time, a passenger on the 55 bus had his phone stolen, but sprinted after the thief down Indiana Avenue. All of the thefts occurred near the intersection of 57th and State Street, which is known to be the most lucrative drug corner in the United States.

The Anarchist

A large man inadvertently bumped an attractive young woman as he sat down. He said “Sorry” to her, and she replied that she enjoyed being touched, and regretted that physical contact was so fraught with tension and repressive impulses. The man said that the apology was not a sign of repression but rather a means of repairing and reaf-firming a social agreement governing the use of public spaces such as trains; people of such varying stations in life could not peaceably coexist without some way to indicate social distance in moments of sardine-like physical proximity. The woman replied that she did not wish to live in a peaceable world if peace was so boring. Then the man moved to the other half of the train car—he could not tolerate the company of anarchists.

Defiant

A man entered our train car selling loose Newport cigarettes at 50 cents each. A woman, announcing herself as a social worker, told the man that it was illegal to sell loose cigarettes on the train, a law that ought not to be flouted lightly because a growing number of under-cover police had begun to arrest passengers guilty of small offenses of this kind. The peddler said that he was not afraid of any man, cop or no, and the social worker, seeing his resolve, said that she would buy two cigarettes, for she was having no success at quitting.

Three Friends

Three friends boarded the train and sat down near to me. One of the men, so I heard, had been in the county lockup for eleven months and wanted to know what had happened in the intervening time. The first friend said that everything had changed: it was now fashionable to receive oral sex while riding the Green Line. The second friend said nothing had changed—receiving such attentions had always been au courant. As though it served as a response, the first friend brought out his phone, on which, he said, was a video of just such an act, shot very recently. After searching, he found that this scene was lost, but the phone contained another film documenting a turtle the man had seen near his house.

So far as they could recall, no turtles had ever lived in their neighborhood before, and then they both agreed that, in truth, much had changed while their friend had been in jail, but it was certain that he would, in time, adjust to the new way of things.

The Jews

The train was getting near to my stop when a new passenger entered the car and began to yell vile anti-Semitic remarks at me. He blamed Jews for the World Trade Center attacks and all the subsequent wars, and for many other things besides, and informed me that I or any other Jew coming to his neighborhood would be shot, and then we would not be smirking so much. It is generally allowed that in these situations it is best to avert one’s eyes, but I stared directly at the man as I might stare at a particularly repulsive insect that is sequestered behind a pane of strong glass. At last the man saw that I was not scared of him, and then he would not hold my gaze any longer, though he continued his torrent of remarks until I got off the train.

Ever since I moved to this city, anti-Semites and...