Watching people running to catch a train that has already been announced is like being at the opera during the final seconds of the finale.
First, the running down the stairs. The entire focus here is not to fall down, which results in a perfect pattern of rhythm made by the soles of shoes. Left, right, left, right left right leftrightleftright. Sneakers, boots, heels; everyone is in perfect unison.
As they make their way to the open doors, the running resumes at a different beat. Its not the short, separated step staccato. Its the final bang before the end of the show; where all the sounds and movements come together in a breathtaking crescendo of a full orchestra. Crowded around the open doors of the train, piling in two, three at time. At the opera, this is when the singers would be loudly holding their highest notes, mouths wide open, arms out to the crowd, heads tilted back, orchestra at a 100 percent participation, conductors arms shooting through space.
Standing there, watching these people, I was in my seat at the opera. Soon the conductor would make his final wave, the doors would close, bringing the show to an end. But not before the final bang. There it was - the athlete - bulky gym bag slung over his shoulder, pushing to get through the doors. He pushes past two people, almost knocking one out with his bag. People notice. He turns to take a seat, grazing the face of another. Expressions harden. There are no seats available. He begins the 360, taking out two more fellow passengers. Its war time. I want to yell, "PUT THE BAG DOWN!" The anticipation is unbearable. I want to know what happens. Just before I am done hoping that he socks someone else and a confrontation takes place, he has found a seat, the doors have closed and the show is over. Oh well, maybe next time. God, I love the opera.
So there you have lesson # 3. Simply put, if you have a big bag on your shoulder, take it off and carry it by your side or you might hurt and upset someone.
