the metro and so much more

Two recent incidences on the metro have confirmed my faith that all systems of Russian transport yield adventure.

1- A few weeks ago, I was waiting for the metro near work at about 9:30 pm, when I looked over to my right and saw a guy who looked shockingly like my brother. I glanced over once or twice more, just to be sure it wasn’t in fact my brother, laughed to myself, and made my way home.
Then, a week or so later, on the metro, again coming home from work, I noticed the exact same guy, who must also work nearby. This time, in the light of the metro car, he looked even MORE like my brother, and I couldn’t help staring. Perhaps he was a few inches taller, but the scraggly beard, the stance, the face….they all screamed Simon. I was in a somewhat jolly mood, and I decided to overthrow convention and converse with the lad. I wisely waited until I was almost at my stop, and then shuffled my way over to him. I said, using the familiar you by accident, "I’m sorry, can I talk to you for a minute?" He nodded his head in slight, ever so slight, assent. "I know this is probably very strange, but I’m from American, and you look EXACTLY like my brother!" He mumbled something like "oh." I proceeded, somewhat panicked, "Well, I was just sitting over there, laughing at how shocked I was to see you standing here. I kept thinking, ‘what if that actually is my brother coming to visit me as a surprise?!?!?" At this point he shook his head and said, "nyet." I said, "Oh, ok, sorry" and turned around to wait for my stop. I had optimistically left enough time for a conversation to start, but the interaction had taken less than 30 seconds and I had to wait at least a minute before the doors opened and I could make my escape. I would have been more embarrassed, but I realized that, had someone randomly approached Simon in a Brooklyn subway station and had said, "You look just like my brother in Russia," he probably would have said, "oh" and then, "no" in what would be a shockingly similar manner. So my double theory holds, and I do not regret my spontaneous confrontation.

2- Slightly more embarrassing was my trip home from work last week. I’ve become highly dependent on my ipod for the commute to and from work. I was listening to a particularly good song and getting on to the metro car when the doors closed on my shoulders. It was slightly painful, but I’ve seen it happpen to others numerous times and I knew that the doors would detect the obstruction and reopen for a minute, which they did. They closed again quickly, though, and this time on my backpack. And, this time, they didn’t re-open. I sat there, caught by my back, struggling in a dancing lizard sort of way to break free. The other passengers in the car looked on with indifference, or faint amusement. No one moved. I was prepared to stand like that until the next stop, or unstrap myself from the backpack and hold it there as best I could. But then, from the platform outside, a Herculean man threw himself at the doors and with an unwordly forced pulled them apart, letting me fall into the train. I did, and gratefully shouted out my thanks. I was left for another stop to be scrutinized by all the other passengers, who had witnessed the foreigner’s fiasco. It didn’t help that Russians themselves almost never wear backpacks. I realize now that it is not only for the sake of style….