To fulfill this little project, I decided, quite contrary to
my normal inclinations, to make this morning’s C-2 ride as obnoxious as
possible for every unfortunate soul within earshot.
Once the bus driver had pulled away from the stop, I pulled
out my phone and proceeded to have a very loud conversation with no one. It went something like this:
“YEAH?”
“I’LL BE THERE IN A SECOND.”
“I’M ON THE C-2.”
“THE C-2.”
“THE C-2.”
“I SAID I’M ON THE C-2.”
“YEAH, OK. I’LL SEE
YOU SHORTLY.”
I’m not sure how many people realized the conversation was
fake, but the higher-than-is-acceptable volume of my voice had a demonstrable
effect. I was the target of a number of
dirty looks, and the guy sitting across from me moved down a few seats. Needless to say, there’s probably not much
chance of me making friends with anyone on that bus. (And thank God I didn’t know anyone.)
What was particularly interesting about this little venture
was just how difficult it was to
actually do it and break the social norm governing volume in a public place. I was incredibly nervous before making my
fake call and while making it. I was
trying the whole time to talk myself out of doing it, and because of that, I
almost didn’t follow through. And even
after I had finished the ordeal, I could feel (and see, when I extricated my
gaze from my lap) everyone on the bus staring daggers at me. My cheeks flushed with the shame of my
(truthfully very mild) transgression.
After a taste of the inward and outward shame afforded me by this incident, I can only imagine how hard doing something seriously offensive would be for me.