Grizzly bear stories: the Quiet Car
Sometimes I buy expensive versions of things without understanding why. Some stuff’s just weird like that I guess — like toasters. I know I could have gotten a perfectly functional version without cracking a twenty. Yet somehow, if only through the existence of a luxury version of it, I found myself needing it as if it would magically fix me crab cakes for breakfast out of two pieces of bread. It doesn’t. Damn thing cost me three hundred bucks and I still burn my toast.
Last month I got a new alarm clock. Hundred bucks. If I set it for 6:30, it glows dimly at 6:00 and gradually increases in brightness, simulating a sunrise, until the full half hour is up. Pretty cool, actually — a gradual and serene way of greeting the morning. But then 6:30 hits and it plays a loud, mechanical bird noise and I want to stab myself with a fork. Waking up sucks no matter how much you spend on it.
Strangely enough, the only expensive thing I own that actually functions like an expensive thing should function was free. My sister and brother-in-law got me a pair of Bose noise-canceling headphones for Christmas last year. I don’t know how much they cost, but I know headphones can cost five bucks and that these are not those headphones. These actually work: the sound quality is incredible, they completely drown out neighboring conversations, and they’ve yet to burn a single piece of toast. I’m almost angry about it. None of the expensive things I buy are ever worth the money.
It’s a 45-minute commute on Septa’s regional rail to my job in Philly and yesterday I forgot the headphones. Prior to the months of Bose-sponsored euphoria, this would have ruined my commute, possibly my entire week. I’d always sat in the Quiet Car to get some work done because it’s supposed to be exactly what it sounds like: a train car that is quiet. But it’s not. A Quiet Car and a quiet car are two completely different things.
A Quiet Car is just as loud as any other car, which means it’s actually louder, since, presumably, you’d be there expecting silence. There are signs everywhere explaining the rules of courtesy, but people ignore them and I’ve never seen a Septa employee shush anyone. It’s infuriating. Eventually, you just wear down and learn to despise everyone on the train: the thirtysomething real estate agent loudly negotiating deals on his phone at 9am, the completely oblivious teen changing his ringtone from something awful to something significantly more awful, the enabling Septa workers who allow it all — even the old lady keeping to herself and quietly working on a crossword puzzle, because fuck her too. It’s easier to hate everyone than it is to hate 97% of everyone and have to spend time identifying the 3% that don’t deserve a public death by firing squad.
But yesterday, those feelings were all surpressed. Forgetting the headphones didn’t really bother me. Maybe I was just having one of those inexplicably happy days, but it was actually refreshing to hear the conversations and ringtones and other disturbing noises again for a day. But that was the key: it was just a day. I was able to stomach it — almost enjoy it — because I knew that the next day, my headphones would again bring an end to the anarchically noisy Quiet Car.
About midway through my ride, at the Cornwells Heights station, a rather large grizzly bear boarded the train and sat down across the aisle from me. It seemed odd, a bear being on a train. But he seemed a gentle fellow. I saw no cause for alarm and just observed him for a while.
He flipped the back of the seat in front of him forward so that it was facing him (think: booth seats at a diner with no table in the middle) and put his feet up. Then he put on a pair of reading glasses that he clearly had no business wearing, bending the frames to get them around his massive head. They looked ready to snap if he flexed his jaw. Out came a copy of Rolling Stone and he started reading. He was a mumbler, the bear — the type who reads half aloud and half to himself, so a close listener can hear every ‘S’ pronounced but nothing more. With the magazine outstretched, his claws ripped through the left pages and it fell clumsily to the floor. He picked it up and opened it again. This time it was upside down, but he hadn’t seemed to notice. He went on mumbling.
The bear couldn’t read. And if he couldn’t read, he certainly didn’t need the magazine or the glasses to read it with. It all seemed very strange to me, not least of which was the simple fact that he was a bear and he was on a train to Philadelphia. But it was clear: He was just trying to do what was normal. He wanted to fit in.
A Septa worker made her way into our car, punching holes in passes and collecting money from folks. I flashed her my Zone 4 Trailpass and she gave me a nod. She reached the bear next.
Where ya headed? she asked.
Philadelphia, the bear said, excitedly.
Well yeah, I kinda figured that. What stop?
Um, I don’t know. How many are there?
She was clearly not in the mood for questions, from a bear least of all.
Just get off at 30th Street. And get your feet off the seats, can’t you read? she snapped, pointing to a sign listing Septa’s conduct policies, which included: “Keep feet off seats.”
She was incredibly rude, but the bear apologized and put his feet on the floor immediately. He handed her his fare and she continued on up the aisle to the other passengers.
Like the flip of a switch, I suddenly noticed all the ignorant people whom I’d grown to despise aboard the train. My forgotten headphones mattered again. Day: ruined. There were three people talking loudly on phones, a group of girls giggling obnoxiously every ten seconds, and one guy playing a game on his phone with the sound effects turned all the way up. Every single person was making some kind of disturbance. I watched the woman check everyone’s tickets without saying a word to them about their noisiness — the same as it always was with the Quiet Car. But the rudeness of the woman, the kindness of the bear, the hypocritical bias given to certain rules — it all boiled to a familiar rage in an instant. With the woman looking right at me, I kicked the back of the empty seat in front of me forward and propped my feet up.
She saw it and was less than appreciative. Hey! she shouted, quickly walking toward me. I just told him to get his feet down and now you’re gonna do that right in front of me?
Yup. Until you start enforcing the rules equally and apologize to that bear, my feet are staying right here. The bear glanced over, seemingly surprised that anyone could have noticed he was a bear.
‘The hell are you talking about?
The quiet rules. You just walked past ten people who are all breaking the rules of the Quiet Car and didn’t say a word. If they don’t have to be quiet, why do I have to take my feet down? Or why does that bear who was very polite to you despite your rudeness?
It was becoming quite a scene.
You’re gonna get kicked off the train in a minute, buddy.
Go ahead, but you’re going to have to kick all those people off the train too.
They don’t gotta get off — just you!
Explain that to me, I said.
Explain what?
Why are some rules ignored and some are enforced? Is that just your personal prejudice against grizzly bears or am I missing my official copy of the Septa Sentencing Guidelines?
A man from the car behind us overheard the argument and had come walking into our car. He wore street clothes, but spoke quietly to her and she listened. I figured he had to be an undercover supervisor — Septa does that. I overheard him saying something about being consistent and something about a warning. She nodded and he walked away. Then she walked to the front of the car so she was facing everyone.
Excuse me folks, she bellowed authoritatively. You’re currently riding in the Quiet Car and you’re more than welcome to continue to do so. But we do have rules for a reason and if they aren’t followed we do reserve the right to refuse service to a passenger or passengers. This is only a warning, but if I have to tell anyone again, that — she paused — person will be asked to exit the train at the next stop. Are there any questions about that?
I took my feet down from the seat and folded my hands, smiling. The bear looked over. He didn’t dare say a word. He just grinned at me and the smile snapped his undersized glasses at the left hinge and they fell to the floor. Embarrassed, the clumsy fellow gathered the pieces and put them next to him on the seat and went back to ‘reading’ his shredded Rolling Stone. Nobody asked any questions and the woman walked past me with an evil stare to the other car.
If I’d remembered my headphones, I wouldn’t have needed them. At last, there was relative silence. The Quiet Car was a quiet car.
With a bear on it.
[Note: This is a battle that I’ve been waging for over a year now. I ride the allegedly quiet Quiet Car because I usually have some work to do or would like to read in peace, yet people are ignorant jerks who don’t follow the rules, even with tons of open seats in the other cars. Septa workers also don’t say anything to these unruly savages. Please, if you ever ride a Septa train and you’re in the Quiet Car, have the self-awareness and human decency to shut the hell up.]
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On behalf of SEPTA, I apologize for the unsatisfactory rides you’ve experienced on the Quiet Ride Cars. Conductors on trains that qualify as Quiet Ride Cars are required to inform passengers of the rules in place in the Quiet Ride car as part of their regular duties. There are limitations to enforcing this policy, being that talking is an unlawful act. However announcements/reminders by conductors, as well as compliance from other passengers generally work for upholding the Quiet Ride rules.
We encourage you to report to any conductor that is negligent in making Quiet Ride announcements or addressing Quiet Ride issues; by providing as much as information as possible such as time boarded, boarding location, direction, train number and description of employee.
You can report all incdients to SEPTA Customer Service at 215-580-7800, or online at http://www.septa.org and use the online form (http://www.septa.org/cs/comment/).
Thanks
Jim
SEPTA Customer Service
*not an unlawful act
Jim,
First of all, I greatly appreciate your concern for the sanctity of the Quiet Ride Car and your taking the time to read of my commute yesterday. However, I feel there are bigger issues here that you could be addressing than simply the lack of enforcement I mention in the piece. I in no way mean to tell you or any other SEPTA employee how to do your job, but I think it would be wise to begin with the following before addressing the more trivial issue of silence:
1. THE BEAR ON THE TRAIN:
As was made clear in the story, I did not hold any sort of conversation the bear, so I was unable to acquire any information resembling a name or possible current whereabouts, but he was indeed aboard the train and I seemed to be the only one who noticed or cared. I find that concerning. Perhaps this could be addressed with a few more signs, advising travelers they should be sure to check their neighboring passengers every few minutes to ensure that none of them are grizzly bears. Also, perhaps mention that if they do see a bear on the train, they should call for the train attendant immediately who will resolve the situation. This bear I encountered was, in the end, harmless, but the next passenger may not be so lucky.
2. HE HAD MONEY:
I’ve given this some solid thought now and I really can’t recall having ever seen a grizzly bear hold any sort of position of gainful employment. I also should mention that I hold an English degree from the very respectable Drexel University, yet have been unable to find a job. So really, there are two options here. Either (A) this bear has somehow attained a degree from a reputable college or university which trumps mine in the eyes of employers, or (B) the bear was a thief. That may sound like a joke, but thievery among the bear population is at an all-time high, as they’re now able to identify the items that hold the most value and steal them. For example, the bear in the following video walks right into a campsite and steals an iPad:
http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/video/bear-steals-ipad-returns-food-17320389
And let’s be honest, the idea that a bear could make it through a collegiate curriculum is just silly. So I think we can both agree that the most likely scenario for his acquisition of American currency is that he MAYBE made it through high school, but with the economy in shambles, he’s fallen in with a gang of thieving thugs instead of struggling with an entry-level 9-5 kind of deal. Either way, I think when a bear hands one of your employees cash, he/she should inquire as to how it was acquired.
3: TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE:
I think the history of incarceration in America — particularly the alarming rate of recidivism for repeat offenders — shows that simply locking a criminal up for a few years just plain doesn’t work. Ex-cons typically end up falling into their old ways again shortly after being released because employers won’t hire them over law abiding citizens. So if we put these bears away, they’ll be back to stealing the proverbial iPad in no time at all.
So why not try a different approach?
We need to get away from simply punishing criminal offenders in this country. It just leads to repeats. Instead, we need to focus on the time-tested philosophy that actually gets results: rehabilitation. It’s the whole “give a man a fish, he eats for a day/teach a man to fish, he eats for a lifetime” kind of idea. Bears that get locked away for boarding SEPTA trains are likely to return to the behavior in a matter of mere months after their release. But what if we created an Ex-Con-Undercover-Security-Bear Program where SEPTA could actually employ these bears who’ve strayed from the straight and narrow, rather than casting them aside to fend for themselves. I mean the bear I encountered had only glasses and a Rolling Stone magazine for a disguise and still no one noticed, so this could really work with a full disguise. And as for those policies that are tough to enforce because they’re not technically illegal — well, when’s the last time anybody’s talked back to a bear, ya know? It’s perfect.
I really think you should pitch this to the higher-ups, Jim. It’s got a shot to help ensure that SEPTA’s policies are followed, while also doing the humane thing in terms of helping troubled bears get back on their feet and make a life for themselves. I really see no reason this can’t work, so if they try to give you any crap about not having the money to add a whole new division to SEPTA’s security, just bring up the fact that they seem to be doing well enough to pay someone to patrol the internet in search of any anti-SEPTA-talking-bear-stories, so why not splurge for protection?
I think it’s worth a shot, but in the end, it’s your call.
-Ian
Oh, Jim. Clearly you weren’t to be allowed to just ignore the bear in the story. But, good on you both for make the comments just as interesting as the post.
I have to second Mrs.Ostrand. Bravo all around. This was very well the most entertaining social media exchange I’ve seen. Maybe ever.
Jim, as a marketing professional in a hospital, I can totally relate to the obligation to respond. Hopefully Ian made it worth your while.
Ian, good work.
I can’t stop laughing!!!!! Everyone needs to take a bow on this one.