And then the craziest thing happened...

Last night after a nice meal in Tokyo I was on the Seibu train coming home. It was packed out, as usual. Just me, some salarymen in stuffy suits and briefcases and the Shibuya-style, mini-skirt wearing, blinged-out young ladies. The normal Tokyo scene, really. As the train was just about to close the doors, the last few came pushing, back-side first into the train, shoving the masses back further in the carriage. This is standard train happenings and usually isn't misconstrued as rude in the least. There are 30 million people in Tokyo- you get used to being cramped.

Anyway, a tall Japanese man (I'd say 6'4 at least) came pushing in the train. I noticed he sort of pushed a young man standing by the door all the way to the corner, nearly pressing him up against the metal hand railings. Well, you could see the young man was a little ticked that the guy had excessively crowded and pushed him, but he said nothing and continued reading his manga. A few minutes later the businessman continued to inch and push, boxing out a lady next to me, pushing her from nearest the window to the middle of the car. Now she had nowhere to hold on to and he had a prime spot near the suitcase rack above where he could lean his head. At this point I noticed a man grumbling about the giant- he was noticeably bullying(ever so slightly) the other passengers to make space for himself. He said nothing, he wasn't being violent or aggressive, but certainly a little annoying.

Finally... getting to the real action! At this point he is standing next to me and he starts pushing up against me. I stand my ground, don't budge, and even give him a hip knugde so he knows I'm there and not appreciating his being so darn close to me with no reason. Well, this continues for a while. Eventually, I look up at the guy, towering over me, and in simple, polite Japanese I say, "Excuse me, but could you please stop that." He looks down at me and says, "Stop what?" At this point I bust out the death look. You know the one. The one your Mom gives you. The look that says, "Don't you dare even act like you don't know what you are doing." Yup. That's the look I gave. Then, he started off about how the train is small and there's no room and how I shouldn't be saying anything. I almost couldn't believe he was going off about it. But... thankfully and miraculously, a Japanese man next to me chimed in... "Enough already!" he retorted. He more or less told the giant to put a lid on it. He even tapped him on the shoulder with his book to send the message that the guy needed to shutup. I was shocked. Not only did a Japanese guy actually get semi-confrontational, another Japanese guy stepped in for me! Woah. This in the land where passive-agressive behavior rules. So here I am, in the middle of a showdown, wondering what is going to happen next.

But... no one says anything more. The train goes back to a silen hush and the train clears out a bit. The old man next to me is about to get off the train. I turn to him so my back is to the giant and I mouth, "Arigato" with my most sincere look of thanks. It's nice to be stood up for, especially when you lack the language ability to stick up for yourself. He smiled, nodded, and stepped off the train.

At the next stop, the giant finally gets off. But right before he does, he hits the suitcase rack and then as he walks out the door he hits the ceiling as well, storming out of the train in a mad frenzy. Yikes.

I hate to think that I instigated someone's unhappiness. I didn't mean to get him so upset, but really, was my response unwarranted? So what is my assessment of last night's happenings? It seems to me that in life, one's reactions are always an outward represntation of what's actually going on inside the person. Maybe it was a bad day, too many hours at work, or an unsatisfying marriage. Who knows, really. And it's certainly not for me to worry about. All I know is I witnessed an inner unhappiness waiting to unleash itself on the first girl that came along. I hope I am never this way with other people.