Yesterday a couple who looked liked they were in their mid to late 60s boarded the train and sat in the seat in front of me. It was clear that they were not frequent train riders. Well, no sooner did they sit down and begin to wonder aloud about the number of stops until Grand Central, when the woman opposite them started her rant. "I guess people don't know what quiet means." The couple talked a little more, unaware that the comments were directed at them. A few eye rolls and loud sighs later, Ms. Nasty couldn't help herself and in a voice louder than what the couple had ever used, let them have it. "Shhh, this is the QUIET car! There is no talking here! If you want to talk you need to move to another car. People are trying to sleep!" I could see the embarrassment on the older lady's face and after a quick, "Oh," the couple remained quiet for the rest of the ride. I felt bad for them, and annoyed that someone could be so obnoxious, rude and disrespectful to people who hadn't meant any harm. This was Quiet Car Rage and I had seen it before.
Last month I got a call from my young son (who never calls) and picked it up thinking it might be an emergency. I'm generally a low-talker and in this case, I was extra-low. Not two seconds into my call, the woman next to me loudly reminded me that this was a quiet car. I put my son on hold and very uncharacteristically, got right in her face telling her I wasn't going to ignore a call from my son and that she probably didn't have any children. So Metro North, maybe in your next newsletter, expand a little more on this quiet car thing. Tell passengers they shouldn't jump down other passengers' throats for talking in the quiet car when they don't know the policy, or don't understand English, or they get an emergency call from home. There are exceptions to the rule— and when it comes to handling things, there are ways, and then there are better ways.
