Snow day story time.

So my car got snowed in, which shouldn't be a surprise since it near-blizzard conditions blanketed the Chicagoland area for the entire day yesterday, but somehow it came as a shock to me this morning. “What? You mean I can’t get my compact car out of a parking spot that’s surrounded by a 26-inch snowdrift? Surely, you jest.”



Anyway, once I realized there was no getting the Nissan out of what I hope isn’t its snowy grave, I schlepped to my nearest el stop to wait for the train. Standing on the platform, firing off “Sorry I’ll be late! Please don’t hate me!” emails, I realized I haven’t taken the train very much lately. What was once a daily necessity is now a rare experience, but not working downtown will do that.

So a Purple Line pulls up and I get on and it’s a lot more crowded than one might expect for 9:20 am. [Sidebar: what do these people do? They can’t all be in advertising, rolling into work whenever.] And everyone’s all bundled up and it smells like wet snow pants and all of a sudden it’s like déjà vu.

I was in this exact same situation when the most embarrassing event of my adult life occurred.

I know what you’re thinking: 1.) Riding a crowded train on a snowy morning conjures up one unique memory? You live in Chicago. You ride the CTA. That situation has to happen, like, 5 months out of the year. 2.) Oh, great. An embarrassing story blog post. How original.

To that I say: 1.) Let me explain. 2.) Don’t judge. I’m dealing with some writer’s block and am at a loss for new material. Besides, who doesn’t love laughing at other's misfortune?

Alright. Back to the most embarrassing event of my adult life. It’s winter, 2007. Another cold, snowy morning in Chicago and I’m all bundled up on my way to my internship. Being the good little intern I was, I got to the office by 8:30 every day. That put my morning commute right in the middle of rush hour.

I pile onto a Brown Line train with probably 117 of my Northside neighbors. Somehow, I stake out a standing-room-only spot near the door, standing right in front of the priority seating. It’s crowded, but I’ve at least got a place where I can hold on to the pole.*

We’re riding along and the train lurches between the Sedgwick and Chicago stop. The train always lurches between Sedgwick and Chicago, yet I'm somehow caught off-guard. In a move that was part-stripper/part-Randy-from-A Christmas Story, I swing around the pole, landing smack dab in the lap of a seated passenger. And I can’t get my overly bundled self back up.

(Replace the snowbank with a young professional just trying to do the crossword in her Red Eye and you'll get the idea.)

I’m flailing on the lap of this poor woman for what feels like thirty solid seconds before I can get back on my feet. People are staring. Once I finally regain my composure and stand up, I try to tell the woman how sorry I am. But since my iPod is cranked up to drone out the CTA, I accidentally scream my apology at her. And you know what? After you’ve sat on a strangers lap and proceeded to yell at her, you want nothing more to get away. Know what else? There’s nowhere to go to get away on a crowded train. So there I stood for the rest of my commute, face burning with embarrassment, clinging to that stupid pole with both hands, right in front of the woman I accidentally violated.

And that’s my story of utter humiliation. After all that, it probably doesn’t sound all that humiliating. Sorry I just subjected you to 600 words of that, but congrats for seeing it through to the end. If nothing else, I hope you think of your footing the next time you’re on a crowded train. And holy crap, let’s all hope the writer’s block goes away soon.

*Zero points for creativity if you threw out a “that’s what she said.” I totally set that one up for you.