I’ve been commuting by ferry into downtown Seattle for about 10 months now. In fact, I am writing while seated on the good old Melissa Ann herself. The first time I stepped onto the walkway of the catamaran, I was overcome with this sense of walking into the high school cafeteria – where am I going to sit? This analogy is not lost on other people I’ve talked to. They [mostly] all concur. If you take a commuter bus, the train, the ferry or some other sort of mass transit at the same time each day, you will know what I mean. There are the readers, the workers, the cool kids, the loners, the knitters, the iphoners and the sleepers. And for the most part people are comfortable with their role in the commuting kingdom and don’t ever change it.

I often wonder if people don’t crossover for a reason. Personally, the 22 minute commute downtown is prime time to write a blog post. It is also a prime time to catch up with and meet people. I am a moody creature and sometimes I am feeling chatty and other times want to hide (like today – I woke up about 20 minutes prior to catching the ferry and was operating sans coffee). I don’t ever feel like I have to sit in a certain spot everyday but I can understand the comfort in doing so. It can be a hassle thinking about where to spend the next 22 minutes. I’ve totally been screwed sitting in random places – landing next to that guy who wants to complain about life or the [weird] guy that wants to get to know me better.

One time, during the early days, I accidentally sat at the designated cribbage table. It’s not really a cribbage table. It’s a booth that the 4:30 commuters sit at to play cribbage. I know that they don’t care, but for one moment you and they realize that you are sitting at “the cribbage table.” They adjust, you adjust, but it’s still awkward.