Talkers

There are different kinds of talkers; the old man who thinks that a cell phone is like talking into a can with a string attached, and yells at the top of his lungs so the person at the other end can hear. Then there's the person in your office who refuses to get his heiny out of his chair to go talk to someone in the cube farm; they simply shout across the office.

Today, I rode BART to and from San Francisco for work; this morning was great, as I was able to listen to the Mormon Channel on my phone, and it was quite relaxing. The ride home was a different story; I got on a the Embarcadero station, and the car I was in was packed full. Among my fellow commuters were two women, who ended up being so self-absorbed, they didn't even know where they were.

These ladies talked about everything at full outdoor volume; their kids, home decor, baby showers, their parents, vacations, their parents vacations. For twenty minutes, I listened to their mindless blather, and then we arrived at the San Leandro station. At this point, I looked at the guy sitting next to me, who was quietly working on some document on his laptop, and we started laughing. He told me that on a previous BART ride, there had been a 300-lb lady sitting in front of him screaming obscenities into her cell phone for an hour; so I felt glad that at least the "talkers" weren't using foul language.

When the train arrived at the Bay Fair station, the women got out of their seats, and said, "is this Dublin/Pleasanton?" I was sorta hoping that someone would say yes, and they would get off, but a kinder person told them we hadn't arrived there yet.

My seatmate abandoned me at the Castro Valley station, with the thought that at least it was only one more stop, and again the talkers thought they might be in Dublin. After we left the CV station, there was silence from their bench, and I thought they'd realized how quiet the rest of the passengers were, but the silence was breached with talk about heading directly to some restaurant, reading texts off the iPhone, and talking about ordering cake from the Internet that Oprah listed as one of her favorite things. Blessedly, after another 10 minutes, we arrived at the final destination, and I was able to walk home in peace.

I don't envy people who ride BART everyday, and am insanely grateful for having a car to drive to work instead of having to take public transportation.