today i made a terrible mistake

I finish work at a nice time and am about to enter the weekend and maybe in my happiness I'm just not thinking because I choose to sit in the corner of the set of four seats on the train, and then I choose to cross my right leg over the left, and then I choose to place a bag of ten or twelve paperbacks, along with my handbag, on my lap. The carriage fills up and the set of four seats becomes occupied by me and three man-sized adults with various hairy features and sweat stains under their arms and what ensues is unbridled anxiety as I try to work out how I will, when it unavoidably comes to it, get off the freaking train.

We approach Central Station and I think, “My God, yes, people are going to get off the train. There will be a shift in dynamics in which I will be able to ease my right leg gently beside my left and prepare myself for imminent detraining”.

Wrong.

People get on the train. An inordinate amount of people get on the train. Perhaps because of the inclement weather, perhaps because it is a little earlier than when I normally catch the train. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Point is I do not manage to uncross my legs and by now the humidity has intensified and I can feel that there is something sweaty and generally unappealing going on where my knees are regrettably locked in place and panic strikes me in the way that I imagine it would if you were to wake up naked in a paddock with a cow and only a cow within any discernible proximity.

We pass through the Valley and Bowen Hills. My legs are not only clammy and suffocating, but my left calf is starting to seize up and I think of my magnesium supplement and urge it to start taking effect now please and then I remember that in my attempts to not give myself cancer I am starting to smell because my non-aluminium based deodorant is highly useless. My fretting increases. My sweating increases. My perceived smelling increases. And I don’t know whether it’s all in my head or not, but EVERYONE IS LOOKING AT ME.

Everyone is looking at me because we have arrived at Albion and my station is next and I have started to wriggle. I have started to try and surreptitiously prise my right leg off the left one. I am not successful. My knee jerks and knocks my handbag onto the man’s lap opposite me. He smirks at me and I praise someone out there that all surprises were safely zipped up. I arise, take my bag which is being offered up to me, and try to ignore the sweat trickling down my calves as I make myself and my baggage as small as possible and inch between three sets of man-sized knees so that I can get to the corridor.

I have made it past Stage One and I start to breathe again. Not sure if the breathing is abnormally loud, but I can see my station coming up and I’ve really got to hurry and I’m looking ahead at the doors and trying to work out where the button to open the door is because sometimes I get flustered and can’t find it and can’t open the door, and then I drop my MP3 player. Maybe I stand on it as well. I don’t even know. Someone picks it up. How they manage to with even standing space being so limited, I also don’t know, but I turn to thank them anyway and I knock another seated commuter in the head with my heavy bag of books. Shit, I say, I’m so sorry. I think I may have gotten away with the head-knocking but not the offensive utterance, so I scuttle towards the door as quickly as having a spasming leg and having to shuffle past three million people and say “Excuse me” every three seconds will allow me.

The train has stopped and luckily some people are also exiting so there is more space and the door is already open. Again, I thank someone out there, imagine the fresh air that is quietly within my reach and throw myself through the door. I stand on the platform and breathe a little, take a second to orient myself. I select a trashy song to make me feel instantly, superficially better, and start dragging my unyielding left leg towards home. Then it begins to rain and I wonder if it was worth getting off the train after all.

So then. Some things I want to share about catching Brisbane City trains, because I don't think it's necessary for everyone to personally undergo torture in order to learn something:

Stand when you have belongings galore and stand near the door. Never cross your legs, except maybe if it would be otherwise indecent not to, in which case perhaps reconsider your attire before leaving the house, you filthy little so-and-so. And remember that if it is easier to stay on board until the crowd has diminished substantially, thus making it possible for you to remove yourself from the carriage without drawing a ridiculous amount of attention to yourself, then you should most certainly do so because there will always be another service heading back the other way at some point, and even if you must wait an hour or so, you've got a whole bag of books to play with. Alternatively, finally bite the bullet and buy a car like all the other grown-ups or just accept that you should remain indoors for ever more.