My name is Tyler. I recently relocated to a fairly new town, near the coast. It's sizable, well not the likes of NYC but still, we're growing. We're modern alright and with progress comes technology. Everyone is always in a rush and if they're stuck traveling from one place to another, say in the metro (Yes, most of the line has been finished, don't look so surprised.) almost always we've got our eyes glued to our smart phones and ambient sound would be filtered by earpieces. Who lives in the moment nowadays, anyway?
It is on one of these train rides where my story (Forgive me, I do love theatrics!) begins:
It's rush hour and I glance at my watch, still on schedule. My shoulders droop in relief, unaware that they were even tense to begin with. I shuffle my way along with the crowd, more to just keep upright than anything. The ambulatory flow of the masses was enough to propel me steadily forward. We squeeze our way into one of the train carriages. The platform assistants flag off, train doors close, we depart.
At this point my left cheek was pressed up against someone else's trench coat. Looking like a guppy, I fished (heh, fished.) my phone out to check on the social media sites that I was subscribed to. I couldn't. Well i could but it was really uncomfortable; Sighing, I put it away and resigned myself to observing the rest of the sardines.
Every day, a different can.
I notice those fortunate enough to get their phones out had already done so. Looking around I spot others in similar positions as me. We exchange smiles, in what could only be described as lip twitches.
I sighed again.
A child was sprawled over his mothers lap, playing the latest spin-off of candy crush on her Android. I was jealous, if only I could just sit on someones lap too, then commuting daily would be a breeze.
"Yankee Pier." blared the PA. The flood gates opened...and the freedom was liberating! This was always the stop that I could get a seat till I reached my destination. Seating myself with a satisfied plop, I continue observing the cabin. For some odd reason i no longer have the impulse to whip out my phone. Instead, I look around; at the couple in the corner, obviously flirting; at the child, no longer using the phone but playing with his mother's hair, hair which had settled itself lovingly around her, sweet, unblemished neck.
Wait. What.
...Moving on, my eyes fall upon a man, seemingly in his 40s. I realize he is looking right back at me with intelligent eyes, eyes full of awareness at what I was doing, I jolt out of my reverie. He smiles, waves and stands up. I avert my eyes and pretend to stare at the single (I'm hoping) mother. She looks up, across and blushes. Yet i notice none of this. My terror mounting, I trace the mans movements out of the corner of my eye and realize he is coming over. The seat beside me is vacant, I do a quick hop over, hoping to fill it. Wait no, stupid Tyler, stupid! Now the previous seat is vacant. Too late. He sits.
"Hello there, my name is Styles."
Unused to being approached (Being new in a new city, I didn't have much in the way of friends.) I turn slowly to face him.
"Hi," my voice cracks. -way to go, son- "I'm Tyler."
He smiles, a warm smile.
"Have you heard of this story? ..." Without waiting for a reply, he launches into a monologue about something to do with...a fox? To this day, I don't recall the content of it but what i do remember is that i felt a sense of community, from just one man. I know this is not how it should normally be described as but it's the feeling I identified most strongly.
I notice passengers around me putting down their phones and devices, literally see ears perking up at the story. Styles must have a gift of the gab but oddly i notice none of it, i'm more aware of how everyone else seem to be more aware of the present. Finally he comes to the punch line, I chuckle, others smile and laugh. Like a movie, I realize it's my stop, I stand to leave but not without bidding him farewell.
The day goes by, yet the encounter stays fresh in my mind.
The rest of the week passes quickly, uneventfully even. I do not run into Styles again but I do bump into some of the commuters from that interesting morning. We spend more traveling time talking than on our mobile phones. I chat up the young, pretty mother, she's married.
I am heartbroken but will survive.
On an unremarkable morning, just like any other, we meet again in the cabins and talk. I notice a youth, looking around, people watching, one might say. Our eyes meet, mine knowing and his like a deer caught in the headlights. he looks away. Chuckling, I stand up and make my way over. There's an empty seat beside him, he shuffles around on his butt, undecided as to which to occupy. I plop into one anyway.
"Hi, I'm Tyler."
Hi, he mumbles, voice cracking at the end.
"Have you heard of this story...?"
Those around look up and smile, knowing looks are shared.
I forgot what my story was but I think it involved a fox.
