Cut Eye Meets One Bag Too Many

I hate being that passenger. You know, the one on public transit who is balancing too many bags, while trying to find a seat close enough to the door so that he/she steps on the least number of feet possible upon exit. Sigh. But today, I was that passenger and it reminded me of a great performance of subway theatre that I dubbed "Cut Eye Meets One Bag Too Many."

******

8:26 a.m. - The height of rush hour. I got on the train, remained standing and sandwiched myself between a pole and about a dozen people. As I was just about to enter my ‘zen’ place with my book in tow, the door chimed open at the next stop and in she walked... one-bag-too-many. Impeccably dressed and oblivious to those around her, she barreled through the train as if it were empty, dragging at least three bags at her feet and two hitched up on her hips. My girl then squeezed in front of me to grab the only available seat and nearly mash up ah foot with one of her over-sized treasures. The offender was a black, boxy briefcase on wheels and the unsuspecting victim, female, was pissed.

Now, let me pause at this point to mention that when I moved to Toronto and became a cog in the commuter-super machine I learned very quickly how to pass the time in lieu of reading material, sleepiness, etc. It’s simple. When yuh get tired reading the same subway/bus ad, start to maco! This is how I managed to witness the delivery of a cut-eye so sweet that it made me lose my place on the page I was reading altogether.

If you don’t know what a cut-eye is, you have never received one.

The injured, a.k.a. cut-eye, recovered quickly enough, but I would pay plenty more than a penny to hear the thoughts that ran across her mind in sync with her deadly glance. (aye aye moment: Most communication on public transit is non-verbal simply because it's safer. Always assume that you are travelling with at least one person crazier than you.)