Why I Love Trains

Red is an American living in Japan. You too can experience Japan, from the perspective of Red. It goes without saying that this is the best perspective, and probably even better than going to the country for yourself. His experiences will be chronicled here per his own convenience. Any questions may be left in the comments or sent to bethanytable@gmail.com

Tonight is my lucky night.

I managed to catch a ride on the express train home. Hey, that’s about 15 minutes off of my commute.

My luck continues. I look to my left. Score! An open seat! Yes, tonight is shaping up to be a great night.

Sitting allows me this chance to write. I pull out a paper and begin writing what you’re reading right now. You may have heard of the crowded trains in Tokyo. Yes, I often end up dry humping other men on my morning commute.

I’m sorry Mr.Tanaka, please don’t mind my crouch ramming you from behind. And no, it’s not an invitation to push back.

There are about 20 people around me that I can watch. Having broken my iPod several months ago, there is little to do on my long commute. So I watch others and stereotype them by their fashion, age, way of speaking, what they’re doing, their demeanor, their sex, what station they get off at, ….

If you’re judging me now, I probably deserve it.

The man on my left is reading a Japanese book. How cute! A cake shaped bookmark!

The man on my right is sleeping.

One girl across from me is shamelessly putting make up on – a necessity for women in Japan. She grabs a huge metal eyelash curler and shoves it in her face as if the train were empty.

Don’t worry Mariko, just glue on some fake eyelashes and you can be cute too!

Two men in their 30s or early 40s dressed in suits are standing despite some empty seats. One of them talks in somewhat feminine Japanese and is dressed sharply. I assume he is gay.

Another girl across from me seems bored and drowns herself in her cellphone. About 1/4 of the people around me are holding their cellphones. Only 1/4 of that 1/4 seem to actually be using them.

Another 1/4 of the passengers are sleeping.

A group of three girls in their 20s to my left chat chat chat. One girl keeps looking in my direction and I assume she’s into me. I recall a tendency towards narcissism that I have. Either way, she isn’t cute enough.

If you’re judging me now, I definitely deserve it.

The girl sitting directly across from me looks Chinese. Far too tall to be Japanese. She also keeps staring at me while I write, but not like the other girl who wants to get into my foreign pants. She watches me as I watch others and jot down notes about them. Shit, I think China is onto me! Fortunately she stops looking at me and global war is averted.

Shibuya. Shiiiiibuuuuyaaaaa. The next stop is Shibuya. Please be careful when exiting the train. After Shibuya, this train will continue onto the Hanzomon line.

More than half of the passengers get up and step out.

The platform is long and filled with people waiting for trains and people maneuvering about the people waiting for trains as they try to head up the stairs and exit the subway.

I am surrounded by and join a school of people as we all move upwards. We climb stairs and escalators in harmonic rhythm. Our collective mass assumes a shape and from a distance would seem like a single entity, yet inside we are all individuals.

As I leap out from the last of the subway stairs I am immediately reminded that I am in Shibuya. Noise from the giant-sized television echoes into the distance while noise made by people pollutes the close surroundings: boots and high-heels hitting the ground, random conversations of passer-bys, those guys handing out tissue packets, and the “Shibuya girl”.

Oh my god! Are you serious?? Like, I would just die!

My path is set and I move along it automatically. I ride the same escalator upwards to the same train I take home every night I work. Yes, this is my second train ride for the night. Fortunately, I liked trains when I was kid. It is that sentiment from my childhood which keeps me from going crazy riding the train for almost two hours everyday -- that and stereotyping everyone riding the train.

I slap my wallet on the reader and walk through the ticket gate. 13,700 yen left on my train pass. At a rate of 100 yen to a dollar, that would be about $137. However, the current rate is taunting and pissing off Japan at about 81 yen to a dollar, which would make that $169. I cringe while thinking that I may have to put more money on this card to cover a month of work transportation. I smile as I remember that my company pays it back.

My smile fades away as I am reminded why I hate the train line where I live. It’s crowded and there’s not a seat open. It’ll be 15 minutes before I am home.

Shut up and stand you pussy.

But I just wish I had an iPod.

You did but you broke it with your brilliance Einstein.

That’s right. Never stick dry Q-Tips up the headphone jack of your iPod.