Go Go Tokyo Metro part 2

This will be my second metro blog.  I know that you all have been waiting with bated breath.  It will deal with my perceptions not of the Tokyo metro itself but the next best thing: the travelers.

The overwhelming majority of Japanese that ride the subway are business people.  Energetic, talkative, and ready to face the day these underground denizens are not.  They enter the subway in droves, well-dressed cattle that move in large pinstriped herds.  The only sound to be heard is the clacking of high heels and the thud of men’s dress shoes.

They do not speak.  They force themselves onto the cars without so much as a single peep and do not stop until the train is filled to capacity, and then some.  Once on the subway a silent battle between shuffling bodies commences.  They fight for hand holds and seats, both of which become exceedingly more rare as the seconds pass after the doors open.

The duels are barely audible,  warriors fight without even acknowledging the enemies presence.  The quickest and strongest are those that achieve victory, those with the mind for taking the quickest path.  Those with no conscience.  Those victors are rewarded with a seat on the train or a handle to hold on to.  This is a true reward because some of these Hyperborian wanderers must travel for hours and they will be able to attain the required sleep to charge them fully for their day at work.

Those that lose in the secret war must stand, crammed like small human sardines inside a box of metal traveling over fifty miles an hour.  The only thing keeping them upright, their fellow losers.  Their bodies keep each other propped vertically, though any jostling movement in the train could disrupt this tenuous equilibrium and send all of them to the floor.  Their equilibrium is at the mercy of the metal rail and the metal train, Blaine the pain (if any of you get the reference, comment me, cause you are awesome).

You can immediately tell the veterans from the neophytes.  The neophytes use their phones, though they do not talk, that is rude and unacceptable conduct in this place of honor, read books, or listen to their iPods.  The veterans, you can see the veterans because they have their eyes closed.  They sleep.  Sometimes they sleep their entire trip, their bodies having been conditioned to awaken from their forced hibernation at the exact moment they reach their destination.  Some may even sleep standing.  These are the combatants that have lost the challenge too many times to number and have adapted to their vertical positioning.  The mother of invention is necessity, and obviously they need the rest as well.

I believe that is all for now, my avid pupil of the Tokyo wanderlust.  Watch with peeled eyes for the third installment.