Re-Education on Transportation
Miss Middot: Re-education on Transportation
Hey y’all, Miss Middot here. It’s been quite a while, but I’m back. If you don’t know who I am, then you are probably a sophomore or real-live freshman. Or maybe you have been living under a rock without Internet, a newsstand or friends for the past year. I suggest you Google me; perhaps you will learn a thing about how to make some of those friends you’re in need of. For those of you that have been waiting for instructions on how to properly conduct yourselves, you probably have issues beyond anything these articles can assist you with. But for the rest of y’all, welcome to your etiquettion on everything etiquette in Yeshiva University. We’ve covered quite a bit in our past columns from no one caring about your Facebook statuses to you not caring which ladies wear pants to gentlemen wearing pants throughout the courtship process. But before I graduate there are a few topics that must be addressed. There are so many all-too-common behaviors that have become commonly acceptable at YC and Stern. We have glossed over a few mean misdemeanors, which have evolved into the elephant in the room. And I hope that if you learn one thing from these columns it is to never ignore an elephant.
Holy Shidduch Shuttle
The Shuttle: Back in the days before the infamous piece of alleged writing began spilling its blueberry smoothies all over every authentic publication based in the New York area and sneaking its way into every conversation, the shuttle was the most stigmatized aspect of our University. How many of your secular college friends have innocently inquired about it, “Is it true that you school has a carpool so that the guys and girls will meet?” Probably more than the number of shuttles available on Friday.
The shuttle may not be our version of the Love Boat, but it’s something else altogether: a breeding ground for rude. Sorry if that offended anyone. But if it did then that means that you are rude, so you most likely offend people on a very regular basis. So here are a few rules to make the shuttle service a bit more civilized.
Please say please and thank you to your security guards. They are not your parents. Probably not, at least. And I hope no one speaks to their parents in the manner in which the guards are often treated. No one is entitled to any seat on any shuttle. I don’t care if you have a meeting so far uptown it’s in Canada. Get over yourself and get in line; it’s not the guard’s fault the spots are filled up. There’s probably some l’chaim in the Rubin Shul or something, baruch Hashem So please be respectful to those who keep you safe. They truly care about you. Who else takes such great interest in your first initial?
Schtick Hock Don’t Stop
Just as the need for manners does not turn off in the universe of the shuttle, neither do ears. Even if your mom cares about your romantic rendezvous in the Heights Lounge, nobody else does. I don’t care if you have the hearing of a bubby, and the social courtesy of an ape. You shouldn’t be speaking on the phone in the shuttle. Everyone can hear you. And they are all listening. And judging you. Ever wonder why the drivers adjust the volume so that the shuttle is only a large amount of illegal substance away from a rave? It’s because they don’t care about what you and your bros are doing once they get to Midtown. Neither does anybody else.
There are so many metaphors I could choose to begin the elevator portion of this article. I could write about how quickly the ceiling becomes a floor or how our elevators are the one thing that truly brings us together here are YU. Perhaps a little too much togetherness. But whatever I write will just be a segue to say that so many YUskies and Sternzies seems to drop along with the elevators. A few rules for you rough riders:
Please let passengers exit before you enter. I don’t care if you have to get to a secret penthouse of Brookdale. Letting others out of any space before entering is simply practical. This innovative advice can be applied on Subways, shuttles, revolving doors, even rooms.
Walk It Out
We’ve all been unfashionably late because the elevator seemed to have been mysteriously switched to Shabbat mode. Well Nancy Drew, this is no mystery at all. People are just lazy. Unless you have some sort of medical condition other than laziness, please think twice before pressing the up button. Don’t take an elevator for two floors or fewer. If it’s a peak hour make that three. How will you get to class, you ask. There is actually a revolutionary alternative to the elevator. It’s called the stairs. Stairs are a fun way to get to where you need to go and go green. It’s also a great way to take your gluteus to the maximus. See you on one floor up, hot stuff.
We have all played pretend that we didn’t know the people we know just well enough. But contrary to popular belief, this actually creates a more awkward situation that acknowledging the presence of your peer. So please, if you know your elevator buddy, please make eye contact, smile maybe even a offer a friendly greeting.
That’s all for now. Oh and even if you skimmed this entire thing please remember to never ignore an elephant. It’s just rude.