from Yaletown Magazine, April Issue This past winter, I spent a fair amount of time back east in Toronto, one of Canada’s frostier cities. It was there that I came to the conclusion that no matter where you are, and no matter how cold it gets, there’s always one idiot girl in a mini skirt, with her legs so red from the biting cold that they appear to be bleeding, and one insane dude in a white t-shirt, parading about like it’s Marrakech in July during a heat wave.
However, I digress so let’s get down to business. I’ve noticed that people—no matter how callous or gentle by nature—always react in the same way when in close proximity with the public transit loonie. Every city, equipped with whatever method of public transport, is frequented by a public transit nutcase. She’s the leathery-faced grandmotherly type with the gap-toothed grin riding the bus, carrying a picnic basket, and trying to touch your arm as she repeats the Lord’s name over and over in vain. Or, it’s the smelly sandpaper-faced gentleman who sloshes Happy Planet on skytrain riders, while yelling all matter of colourful obscenities designed to startle the world into being a more forgiving place.
Every time I bring this up, I am peppered with matter-of-fact reminders that these people are often rejected from institutions before being tossed around by ‘The System’. I know this to be true and empathize, but the fact remains that when a crazy person, no matter how deserving of public assistance, is trying to make physical contact or penetrating my thoughts to tell me outlandish nonsensical stories, it’s both uncomfortable and unwelcome. I don’t think this is an informed or cruel reaction. It’s a human one. I don’t think the solution is to ignore them at all. But whatever the ‘right’ reaction is, everybody proceeds in one of two ways.
The Deaf Half Head Turn
This is where the person who is put in this awkward position opts for an unflattering sort of head tilt, where they turn their head away just enough so as to avoid any eye contact beyond the peripheral, without seeming too rude to listen. It’s somewhere between looking into the speaker’s face and pretending to understand, without actually cutting them off by turning your back to them completely or, worse yet, moving seats. The message is very similar to one that a mother often sends her child: “I won’t give you my full attention so as not to encourage or indulge you. That being said, I can’t take my eyes off you completely in case you do something, well, childlike.” The deaf half head turn is accompanied by either a semi-smile, communicating the message “your craziness amuses me, but not enough for me to try to decode what it is you are raving about”, or the jaw set into a controlled grimace, meaning “can’t you see I’m enjoying my $4 coffee, you crazy old bat?”
The Pleading Patsy
The second reaction is when the victim starts to look around in desperation, attempting to make eye contact with anyone but the person whispering not-so-sweet nothings in their ear. They shift uncomfortably, and then begin with those sitting closest to them. When that fails, they move on to the next row, travelling further and further back with their eyes in a futile effort to find understanding and diversion. Of course, they always come up empty-handed, because every other rider is busy averting their eyes with determined concentration. And so we come full circle. Avoidance begets avoidance and an environment devoid of empathy is just that. Head half turned and looking the other way.
No comments:
Post a Comment