Rushing the BART train like a banshee loose from hell

I don't understand why people do this, and this happens almost on a daily basis.

Most of the time I'm one of the first people in line at the Montgomery Station by the time my train comes. I stand, patiently waiting, reading my book and listening to my music and keeping an eye out for lurkers off to my side (Lurkers = people who don't understand the concept of a line and how to use it, for example, tourists, people who don't speak English, large families and people going to the airport). If you're a true BART rider, one that's been doing it for years and years, you should know the ropes and can act without thinking. If you're first in line, then your job is that much more important because you herd all the people behind you into doing what you're doing. You must take this job seriously. I do, believe me.

So what you do is this: If the train coming isn't your train, you move to the side so that the people who need to get onto the train can move forward without trouble. When, and only when, the doors close, do you move back in line. This makes the people behind you follow the same lead unless you've got rebels in line (I'm a rebel on occasion – continue reading). I want to strangle people who are first in line but stand way off to the side instead of near where the doors will open. Those people are the most frustrating people. I try to begin line-straightening revolts by moving inward so that if everyone followed my lead, we'd be lined up with the doors. This usually ends in confusion, where people think I'm trying to create a third line, but I don't care. I don't like being off to the side where the lurkers lurk. I know where I'm supposed to be, and I'm supposed to be in the line, right here!

So when I'm first in line, I can play by my own rules, and I move to the side and allow others to get on without trouble. Actually, what it really comes down to is that I don't want to be smacked into or pushed into the BART train or just mad in general because idiot late people are rushing to the doors, trying to get on. I don't like strangers touching me, and especially those that don't even recognize that they have bashed into my bag and whirled me around. So I move. You should too.

Tonight, I was first in line and a lady came running out of nowhere down the center of the two lines. The train had been there for a while already, so I figured she had a 50/50 chance of making it. Right when she was three steps from the door, it began to close. Two steps later, the door was closed. This is the part I don't get – instead of chalking it up to the luck of the door draw (or bad luck, in her case); she stood there and stared at the door. See, if it were I, I would have been heading for the back of the line at this point. No need to drag on what just happened and how silly I looked running like a banshee out of hell to get on the BART train. But no. Not her. She was special. Oh, I didn't mention that, did I? Those that have the doors closed on them are special. In their own special way that no one else understands except them. The door is not supposed to close on them. The door should never close on them. They are in the same category as a Lurker, as far as I'm concerned. Pay attention, dummy! You're not special!

So she slowly turned her head and stared at the BART operator (dramatic). And stared. And kept on staring until the train pulled away. And if I'm first in line...well, I really don't care that you just had a door shut on you. I personally refuse to run like a loon to catch a BART train. Hey, there will be another one in 15 minutes. I can wait. So what I did was this: I moved back in line. Right next to her. And since she was only thinking about herself because she was special, she turned around and knocked right into me. Yes, that's right lady, not only does the BART operator not care about you, I don't care either. Box you in!

And you know, people do this all the time. They really do think a hard stare in the direction of the BART operator will get that door open. What they fail to understand, even though they should if they take BART long enough, is that these operators have a thing called a "schedule" to adhere to. They can't play games with people, opening and closing doors for them. Really, if the operator had opened the door for her, then 10 other people would have tried to sneak through. There has to be a stopping point. There just has to be.

I love it when these people get mad and try to find condolence with the people first in line. If it's me they talk to, then they just get a blank stare. Did I just hear something? Oh, that's right, you're special. There you are!