Logic vs. Commute

Commuters wait for their train

I hate commuting with the same passion that workers the world over understand. We are all united in this underlying frustration that is wasting so much energy trying to get to a place we don't even particularly want to go to, especially at such an ungodly hour in the morning. 

The longer I've been commuting in Japan, around Tokyo, the more I've come to long for the commutes that most Americans suffer through. Admittedly, I've never actually commuted to work in America, but the idea sounds more and more appealing as the days roll past.

While Americans are forced to sit in their adjustable, air conditioned cars (complete with comfortable seats, a radio and a music player), Japanese people are crammed into trains. I don't mean that as hyperbole; Japanese people are crammed into trains. Every morning I am slammed into a metal railing that prevents me from falling into the lap of the person who was lucky enough to grab a seat beside me. You know immediately who has been working so hard that they haven't had time to shower. 

When you finally get to the final station, a torrent is unleashed from the train, and I've watched several bewildered tourists and backpackers flung aside in its wake. Everyone is either flat-out running to make the next train or carelessly clawing, jabbing and stepping on your feet to get ahead of the onslaught. 

When I finally reach my destination train station, I have to weave and dart past people, literally fighting for enough space to get up the stairs and to the ticketing counters so I can just leave the station. 

And finally, finally, I'm outside in real air, able to breathe without hitting anyone if I don't stretch my arms out too far. 

Then I reach the bus stop, and the source of my current problem: 

As you can hopefully see from this map I created, the bus stop for the bus I need to ride is located in a corner, meaning that people (the blue dots) line up in a kind of horseshoe to get on the bus. I don't care if I'm within that horseshoe, but when I'm not (see the red dot), then the problem arises. 

Do I follow that horseshoe shape to get on the bus? Or do I do what the diagram above suggests and just wait for all of the people in front of me to get on the bus, and then go directly on the bus from where I'm standing? 

Logic says I should wait. 

The problem is that I can feel the impatience of the commuters behind me, their bodies shifting anxiously, as if the bus will leave without them. 

But my God I hate doing illogical things, and following that horsehoe shape is a complete waste of time. 

So I wait and shoulder the stress of the people behind me, hoping they can realize I'm being logical. 

Sometimes when I'm within the shape of the horseshoe, and I look back at whoever is standing in that red dot position, I see some people waiting there like I do. I like to think I'm starting a trend. 

And then yesterday, I was in the dreaded red dot position, and I waited, pretending to fiddle with my Smartphone in order to give me something to do. 

The person behind me tapped my shoulder. 

I looked at the bespectacled man, bewildered. 

"Are you in line? Mind if I go ahead?" he asked.

"Um, sure," I said. 

So I stood there, and he went past me to follow the horseshoe shape. 

The people behind him followed him. 

I was completely flabbergasted as I stood there, watching them all follow that horseshoe shape.

Sometimes I've watched little kids run up to their parents, tag their parent's leg, and then run off in the opposite direction. Back and forth they go like little boomerangs, wildly excited by the repetitive game. 

I felt like that parent, waiting there while my kids made a pointless detour to get on the bus. 

And then I waited until I spotted the bespectacled man. 

I cut in behind him and got on the bus. I wanted him to at least feel like he'd accomplished something, I guess.  

How can people be so ingrained in the commute pattern that they don't see how illogical some of their actions are? Exactly how robotic are people anyway?