A long silence followed,broken only by her murmurs of agreement or sympathy or encouragement as the person at the other end appeared to share his or her view,oblivious to the fact that the woman on the tram,despite her gentle sounds,was typing furiously,recording everything said to her. The call ended and the woman typed away,unaware that the rest of the tram travellers now knew exactly who she was and her assignment for the day.
Public transport has become a new work space,where intimate conversation are held in front of dozens of strangers.
Has public transport become a mobile office where lengthy business and personal calls are made on the way to or from work as a way of ticking off the “to-do” list or clearing a mental in-tray? Is it where time-poor workers find extra time? Have we become so used to making calls with earphones in that we don’t notice when there are other people around who can hear our calls? What are the implications for the privacy of workers when private matters are discussed candidly in public places?
Office calls made while travelling in the tram happen quite often. In the past few weeks,I have been the unwilling witness to a telephone interview between a recruitment officer and a job applicant. It seemed to go well;the applicant was asked their expectations about salary and the recruiter did not falter when she got the response. The applicant was also asked how many direct reports they had,and the answer seemed just right again;the recruiter seemed pleased.
Not so positive was the worker who took a call from management and was derisive about a coworker and enthusiastic about plans to pull the coworker into line. The worker sounded sour and just a bit mean,and it was hard to keep the neutral face expected of tram travellers and not stare at her so that she might get the message to have the conversation with her manager when she got to work.
I’m not saying it doesn’t make tram travel more interesting and sometimes moving,to be given a window into other people’s lives.
Once,a group of teenage girls jumped on the tram and one of them confided excitedly to her friend (and the whole tram) that a male friend had touched her hand. Her delight was infectious and sweet,a reminder of the significance so many moments hold at that time of life.
Another time,a middle-aged woman got on the tram and proceeded to telephone her siblings to tell them that their father had passed away at the hospital. Unable to contact one of her siblings directly she modified the message she left for him,saying she had just come from the hospital and that it was not looking good.
Perhaps it was an act of kindness,intended to soften the shock of the reality when finally known. Those around this woman stopped looking at their phones. I,too,didn’t know what to do. As I was getting off the tram,I gently squeezed the woman’s hand and wished her good luck for what sounded like it might be a difficult day. She smiled back.
Tram travellers are forced into a strange intimacy for the duration of their trip and rules of etiquette apply to ensure that we all get along. Looming over someone who is seated or sticking your bag in their face is obviously not on,as is having your phone on loudspeaker. If you must take a call,perhaps try to keep it short and quiet.
And please don’t hire or fire people while you are surrounded by a bunch of strangers. The person on the other end of the phone deserves at least that respect.
And so do we.
Melissa Coburn is a freelance writer.
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