Thought Picnic: Of feet on seats, a challenge to my objectivity

An annoyance

The bugbear of feet on seats, today had me questioning my impartiality and objectivity as the man sat opposite me chose to put his feet on the seat next to mine.

I have in times past asked people to put their feet down because I consider it rude and disrespectful to have your feet on public transport seats next to another passenger.

This is beside the fact that it is against the rules and just bad manners. I have before today tolerated this particular passenger's bad habit knowing he will have to make way for other passengers at the next station.

Prompted to act

However, today, I was presented with an opportunity I did well not to miss. When he saw the ticket conductor walking down the aisle to check our tickets, he took his feet off the seat, signifying he knew it was wrong to soil the seats with footwear and also preventing the situation of being told off by an authority figure.

The moment the conductor left us, his feet were back on the seat. At which point, I motioned to him and asked why he took his feet off the seat when the conductor came by and then put them back on as the conductor left us.

Not too shocked

Then I upbraided him for behaving badly before I returned to reading my newspaper, not too pleased with myself for waiting to act with civic responsibility.

We then got off at the same station and then I realised we worked at the same place. I was appalled, but not surprised. Alas! Gentlemanliness and the test of such a virtue is not a prerequisite for working at a bank.

The almost curse of being particularly particular

Penthouse office views

We moved into a brand new office block this week and it was wonderful to move from a cellar to a top floor office.

I have however wondered how we ended up in the 5^th floor and the big-wigs on the 2^nd, hopefully, it not suggesting anything as Machiavellian as being so close to the airport.

In any event, we have the view of the airport, runway and hangars on the one side and a major road sided by a canal and a typical drawbridge for canal traffic on the other side.

It means after getting to Schiphol Airport by train, I have to board another bus; free of charge because an arrangement between the company and the bus company allows for free travel in the environs of the airport.

That seat is reserved – for us

I had kept my peace and even endured the journey standing once, but I decided not to do that again – the buses have upholstered seats with visible repeated signs of the pregnant, the nursing mother and supposedly the infirm – depicted as someone with a cane.

Now, I use a cane and not for the reasons of re-enacting Edwardian England, my back has been a bit troublesome though not as bad as it used to be – as I got on the bus, the able, the young and overly active made for these priority seats; I was having none of it as I pointed out to them – these are priority seats not reserved for you.

None looked pregnant, with suckling infants or with anything to aid their mobility, so before I got to the point of being forceful, a seat was yielded and I had the basic comfort of getting to work.

I do not normally rush for those seats if other seats are available but when every seat is occupied, well those who need them have priority over those who usurp them.

The bane of being particularly particular

What should not happen is the tendency to become particularly particular with an eye out for those who ignore the obvious – one trait in need of amelioration is that feeling of irksomeness when one sees these things.

Bags on seats, rushing in at entry points, bicycles beyond traffic signs, bicycles on footways, people standing in the way ignoring the fact that they are in the way – what a fuss-pot I’ve become.

Loathing and primed to correct, but without horn-rimmed spectacles and shrill voice to boot – I probably need therapy or have to live in a different world – but for now, we’ll just manage as much as possible not to be too aggravated by it all – we can’t all be so proper.

Additives for Wembley seats

Going to Wem-bur-ley

I plan to visit the new Wembley Stadium when I am next in London at the end of this month.

Unfortunately, it appears the Wembley Stadium is already losing its lustre; the quite radiant mid-spring sunshine seems to have shone the colour off many of the 17,000 extra padded premium seats.

The originally red seats are now a paler shade called pink due to photo-chromic degradation.

This is where I would think the hitherto pigments in food colouring would come in useful and where they should be applied, Allura Red AC for instance withstands temperatures higher than 300° Celsius and probably would resist degradation in direct sunlight. Being soluble in water might require a bit of inspired chemistry, not an impossible task.

Just imagine all those super-rich premium ticket holders getting up cheering with bright red backsides, a sight to make eyes sore. Meanwhile, one might say the people who installed the seats would have some red faces, anyone's guess if that also came off the seats.

A backside spread over six seats

Must get on first

Being a commuter, one is sometimes amused by the attitudes one encounters when it comes to public transport.

The first thing that hits you especially if you are English is the fact that the Dutch do not queue, probably, some sort of divine crowd control ensures that everyone gets on without a fuss.

The level of individuality to the exclusion of others is amazing in the fact that people hardly ever take notice of others when they walk up and bunch up at the entry points to vehicles and carriages.

Any space between a commuter and the entrance can so easily be taken up by someone who almost aggressive saunters by and inserts themselves in that gap.

This then creates another little problem; when a train arrives, it would seemingly be sensible to allow passengers to disembark before trying to get on.

However, because of the bunching up at the entry points, passengers literally have to fight their way off the train and the waiting crowd is struggling to gain the advantage of getting on first.

Walking with a cane then provides an easy way of getting off through the inadvertent but sudden collision of people with the cane; space does materialize for one to disembark with ones dignity intact. Bliss!

Chivalry in Dutch is indifference

Having gotten on any means of transport, it is interesting to see how 2-seater arrangements are fully occupied by one person without consideration of others. This happens on the trains, in the buses, on the trams and the metro transport services.

At one time the traffic police used to pull people off the metro who seemed to occupy more than their fair share of the seats; the legality of which one is a bit suspect of.

The most nuisances are either bags or feet on unoccupied spaces which only get offered after an aggressive challenge rather than a friendly entreaty.

Somehow, the occupants have a way of being complete oblivious the fact that the vehicle is filling up or some elderly or incapacitated person, if not heavily pregnant woman might need the seat.

Chivalry is probably not a Dutch word; well really, it seems to be utterly archaic to all languages nowadays.

You will be a mug to give up your seat for a lady; if one of the many of the female sex on the bus dares to look more like a lady than anything else. I apologise, contemporary and trendy fashion does not help many appear like ladies anymore.

So much flesh exposed in an unseemly need to be attractive but without the commensurate work to display the attractive.

In some cases, there is some much blubber exposed; the Michelin man of the Michelin [1] tyre adverts would look like a skinny stick insect.

Occupy for myself only

However, the best example of space abuse is found on the trains. The first class sections of the certain trains have compartments of 6-seats with a door. The rush to get on at that section is to be the first to occupy the compartment.

The first to occupy the compartment immediately closes the door and places as many of their effects on the seats such that it appears full of, well, one person.

In one instance, it was a like an obstacle course in a military camp to get one seat in the compartment because, the bag, computer carrying case, over-coat, jacket and files had taken up every space.

One would just be immediately discouraged from trying to gain entry, but when other places are filled up in the limited 1^st Class common area, then those compartments come into contention regardless of the occupant.

At least, a greeting gets exchanged at entry and nothing more, which is a lot different from International train travel where usually other foreigners are more engaging and chatty.

Speaking up for silence

Some 1^st Class common areas have a finger to the lips sign indicating a Silent area [2] and a red stroke through a mobile phone sign, signifying what it means. No mobile phones, no matter how quietly you want to talk.

Any decent mobile phone has a silent facility with the option to vibrate when called. Rarely, does that get activated. We can live with that.

However, one evening, they all got on and before the train doors closed, 4 people were on their mobile phones.

“Excuse me please, we cannot have all of you on the phone, this is a no mobile zone”, I remonstrated.

Peace!

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