Not many civic experiences are worse than when you're a CTA regular pitched into a train full of Wrigley-bound Cubs fans: you're minding your own business—just trying to finish Fifty Shades of Grey or whatever—and there's not even room to stand, let alone sit, because the car is so packed with besotted blond people who are always shouting to their buddies on the other side of the car. They seem to be new to public transportation. They are excited about baseball. They're drinking tallboys when they're not spilling them and it's making the floors sticky. And they're driving everyone else crazy. But eventually the hordes alight the train at Addison—and what sweet relief follows! There are seats. A satisfied quiet sweeps the car. Somebody slumps into a chair and pulls out a magazine; someone else emits a sigh, or a low whistle. The passengers exchange grateful eye contact—you're all sharing this together. At least for the next five seconds.