Yesterday–Sunday–the train from JFK was fairly deserted up until South Station, and then there was a real throng at Downtown Crossing waiting to get on. They blocked the doors in a thronglike manner so that passengers inside couldn’t get off, and poured in before letting us. Apparently not everyone reads my blog. Or at least not everyone reads it attentively. Imagine.

Now, I know. You see free seats inside, and that all-consuming hunger takes over. It’s like, “God, if I can only get to that seat before this old goat next to me, everything in my life will be OK. My miserable existence will be bearable, at least for another twelve minutes!” Isn’t that how we live our lives in these topsy-turvy times? Little mercies. Some of them stolen.

But let me tell you something, people. When this internal monologue kicks in, the one that says “seat on T = +/- 12 minutes of bliss”, that’s when you have to step back, take a breath, and ask yourself, is this life for me? Because if getting a free seat on a SUNDAY when there are scads of them is important enough for you to blindly push, shove, kick, bite, potentially scratch someone’s eyes out, to risk life and limb, it’s time to cash it in. That shit’s for Filene’s Basement, not the T.

Life and limb, you say? Yes, life and limb. Not long ago I was on a crowded orange line train, hanging from a meat hook, and a number of angry-looking young thugs got on. In itself, it’s not unusual. But I overheard one mumbling to another that he wished someone would just bump into him so that he could beat the living daylights out of them. I very carefully scootched away. In the opposite direction, needless to say. Careful not to bump into anyone.

Most of us, when we’re feeling blue, we pop a Xanax, or go home and eat a bucket of suet and cry ourselves to sleep watching endless reruns of Law & Order SVU. But there are people who, when they’re feeling blue, the only thing that perks ‘em up is to break someone else’s bones, disfigure them for life, or at the very least, beat the shit out of them at the least provocation. In other words, there are people out there just waiting to kick your candy ass just for breathing on them. Don’t forget that.

As for the rest of us. Don’t tempt us. Should you assume that otherwise civil people will react to incivility in a civil fashion? The real reason most people tolerate bad behavior from strangers is simple fear. Plus, if they’ve already got a seat, they’re not gonna let some fool keep them from their own +/- 12 minutes of bliss. But fear is definitely a factor. Most people aren’t really civilized, they’re just really afraid. It works, more or less, most of the time, but still it’s the least common denominator. Not everything need be based in fear, though nowadays nearly everything seems to be. And with some justification.

So when you are riding roughshod over your fellow passengers for the Holy Grail of the morning commute, a free seat, ask yourself how you would feel about you if you weren’t afraid of people who act like you do. Because one of these days you’re gonna end up flat on your back with your face split open. And no one will help you, because it’s the T. Some will laugh, some will look down at you pityingly, maybe one or two will mumble “dag” or “ouch, dat hurt.” Most will pretend you aren’t there at all. But you can count on one thing: no one will help you. You’ll have to collect your shattered face all by yourself, and ride to your stop in shame.

And that’s the last I’ll say about that.