It was one of those train compartments that can accommodate six people and that can be closed with a door to the aisle. You find them less and less and yet they still exist. I don’t like these compartments. They are so complete. But I was tired and just looking forward to finally getting home on a normal weekday evening. Nevertheless, the train was full. When I entered the compartment there were still two places available, the ones next to the door. I took one of them and my book out of my pocket. In the far-left corner, on the same side that I was sitting on, a skinny older lady had made herself comfortable by putting the reading glasses on her nose in such a way that she was always able to look at anyone with an annoying look who, in their opinion, deserved one. It corresponded exactly to the role cliché of the old governess. Between her and me was a young man, with wild dreads, goa pants, and undisguised tattoos that adorned him to his fingertips. The lady clearly felt uncomfortable next to this gentleman. She pinched the handbag on her lap, her back and legs straight. The man who sat opposite her would have preferred her as a neighbor.
That gentleman, placed in the right corner by the window, wore a formidable, gray three-piece and the hair short. I could well imagine him as a lawyer or banker. However, the governess found no ally in him to ward off the strange subject by her side, because the lawyer or banker or whatever he was doing professionally was too absorbed in maltreating his laptop to be able to perceive other people’s worries. He probably wouldn’t have been interested in them either. It was just as possible that he was just glad he didn’t have this outdated hippie sitting next to him, because he must have had bugs. Everyone with dreads has bugs. You just know that. Everything is always the same and who looks like this should not be surprised that he is banally thrown into a pot with everyone else who looks that way. If you don’t want that, then you shouldn’t look like that. After all, somehow you have to create order between all the people you meet in this way. You have your drawer ready for everyone. Everyone has that. Some have many, others few. The fewer drawers, the simpler the world view and the opinions. After all, you have other things to do. One look is enough to know everything about another person that is necessary to know. The guy with the dreads made it particularly easy. Of course, the gentleman in three parts. It could just as well be a marriage and other swindler, as could the man with the Goahose that he was a world-renowned marine biologist that only ordinary people outside of science had never heard of. But one could not and did not want to think that far, because that would bring disorder into the fixed structure of judgments.
Sitting next to the gentleman in the three-piece suit was a man who was so stout that the armrests sank left and right into his bacon rinds. Despite the cold, he wore only jeans and a T-shirt, but still seemed to be sweating constantly. This too received a disapproving look from the older lady, because obesity was in the eyes of those moral guardians a sign of discipline less and excess. Gluttony is also one of the seven deadly sins, as everyone knows. Needless to say, those women are always very inclined to speak to Christianity because it is so much fun to judge sin and vice. At last she looked me over and it was practically written on her forehead that I, with my pants, lace-up shoes, jacket and hat, were all pitch black, like a goth, who had also forgotten that her femininity was more appropriate to cover up clothes. She turned her gaze to the window, mocked, because nobody cared about her disapproval.
The train finally started when the compartment door opened again and a young girl scurried in, dressed in a dress that reached her ankles and a hooded sweater that was so big that she could wrap herself in it, doing the hood was pulled deep into her face. Silently, she took a seat in the last empty seat across from me, with her knees facing the back so that she turned her back to us.