The Scootch
What would happen if you sat down next to someone on the subway when the car wasn’t crowded — when there was space available to not be next to someone?
Here’s what I mean. You get on the subway and it’s not crowded so there are five or six people seated along the bench with ample space between each of them. Do you sit next to someone or do you sit in the open space equidistant from your colleagues to either side?
I watched yesterday as people chose their seats as I returned around 5:15 p.m. on an F train that remarkably, was not packed. It was a gray bench car instead of my beloved orange and tans. As expected, most people sat in the empty spaces, as far from their fellow riders as possible. So what happens when the car starts to fill and the empty space becomes a true commodity? Someone has to scootch (slide their butt) over in order for someone else to sit. Usually some brave soul tries to make eye contact after standing in front of the small clearing, waiting. Sometimes they ask for the seat with words, “Can I sit?” Sometimes it’s with pleading eyes. Sometimes – and this is my favorite – they simply turn and present their rear end, assuming that people will either make room for them, or that once ensconced in the seat, their butt will find the room it needs.
There is usually a moment of hesitation before said butt is lowered onto the seat – a way of saying, “Here I come,” before actual butt to seat contact occurs. It’s just enough time for those seated to either side of the clearing to scootch out of the way. I saw a woman today, yellow dress, use this technique. She edged her hips into a space between a man and a woman, forcing them to scootch an inch or two to their sides. Her hips became a crowbar to open that small space for her body to fit into. Then, when she tried to lean back against the bench and take full advantage of her success, her shoulders wouldn’t fit. She backed her right elbow twice into a man’s forearm as he read the Times.
By the third attempt he shifted to his right and made room. It was tight, but she was in. She adjusted her skirt, placed her bag on her lap, and smiled. So I decided to experiment today. The car was only about a quarter full and there was plenty of empty gray bench space on the F train that pulled into the 23rd Street station. But instead of sitting down on the open plain, I sat down right next to someone who had space open to his right.
It was a suit reading the Daily News. He immediately scootched to his right, which brought him up against the railing. I scootched to my right, into his vacated space so that we were hip to hip.
I took out my book, Jack Kornfield’s After The Ecstasy Comes the Laundry. The suit stared at me for a moment then went back to reading his paper. No further action was taken on his part. As other passengers came into the car, the space to my left filled up. This is how revolutions are begun.
–Joe Lunievicz
Viva La Revolución