Conversations are discouraged

Who knew there were "quiet cars" on trains?  I suppose you all did.  But I didn't.   I took the train to the suburbs last night and saw the little sign.  I wish I could remember exactly what it said, but I can't.  And, becasue I'm getting so good with my computer skills, I just googled it.  Okay.  Maybe I'm not that good.  I googled Chicago Metra Quiet Cars and the only articles that came up were those about the quiet cars.  None of them mentioned the little sign.  Would there have been a better thing to google? "Little signs in the Chicago Metra quiet cars"?  Tried it and it didn't work either.

Whatever.  They exist.  And here are the rules (as posted on the Metra website). In fact, the website calls them the "simple rules."
No cell phones.
Conversations are discouraged; if they must be held they should be short and in subdued voices. 
All electronic devices must be muted, and headphones should not be loud enough for anyone else to hear.

That's it.  Pretty simple, I guess.  Simply awful.  So, once I realized I was in the quiet car I'm sure you know what I did next.  Right.  I moved out to the little vestibule between the two cars to stand for my ride on the train.  And guess what?  There was another rebel out there with me.  He was eating popcorn.  "No crunching popcorn" wasn't on the list of simple rules, but maybe he just didn't want to risk it.  The website also says that the conductors carry small notices that they can discreetly present to the violaters.  I wonder what those say?  Do they just slip it under your nose for a quick read?  Or do they place it in your lap or on your seat like the people asking for money on European trains (maybe they do that here, too, but I don't take the train enough) and then come back and pick it up a minute later?  I'd kind of like to see the conductor's discreet presentation,  but I'm not sure it's worth another trip to the suburbs just for that!

So, Popcorn Guy and I stood in the vestibule and guess what we did?  We talked.  Out loud.  To each other.  I asked him if his popcorn was part of his daily commute.  Not everyday, but he does like popcorn.  I told him that I like to pop my own on the stove where you have to stand there shaking the pan.  He likes to make his in the microwave.   I thought to myself, "Oh, if only he knew how good and cheap it was to do your own on the stove instead of the greasy microwave bags" at the same time that he was saying, "It's not microwave popcorn that you buy in the store.  I use the same popcorn that you put in the pan on the stove.  I just put it in a brown lunchbag in the microwave."   That was news to me.  What about the oil?  You don't need it.  How does the bag stay closed?  Scotch tape.  Brilliant.

We talked about his job.  He said that he travels a bit for work and he'd rather go to the airport than take this commuter train.  He said that you have to be careful of some of the serious commuters because they'll run you right over.  I imagine those are the ones that wear sneakers with their suits and skirts.  I imagine they are probably also the ones that make a dash for the quiet cars.

He told me he worked for a power generating facility.  Did I really remember that?  I'm not sure.  It all came clear when he said, "windmills."  I usually need a visual.  So, I learned a little bit about that.  I'm not so sure that he learned anything from me, but I think that's okay.  Maybe he learned or will learn something from the girl that stood in my place in the vestibule yesterday or the one that will be there tomorrow.

Tonight when I told a friend at dinner about the quiet cars she told me her own train story.  She said that every morning for weeks (months?) she followed the same guy down the sidewalk with the same distance between them to the same train station.  They never talked.  Then, when she saw him on the platform on her reverse commute, she decided to introduce herself and tell him that she follows him every morning.  Now they go to each other's birthday parties.  Fortunately train stations don't have quiet platforms (yet).

Popcorn Guy and I talked about the quiet cars and then we both looked in at the quiet car passengers and laughed.  They all had their heads down buried in their gadgets.  No one talked.  No one looked at each other.  No one smiled.  The only person that learned that you can make popcorn in the microwave in a lunchbag sealed with scotch tape was the one that talked about it in an unsubdued voice in the vestibule.   Is it really a good idea to travel in a world where conversations are discouraged?  Wouldn't you rather giggle than google?