Public transit is loathsome. Most of us have had to endure it at one time or another: as a student to school, as a drone to work, or-like me-as a victim of circumstance without vehicle.

We’re forced to travel in a tightly packed tube, ripe with the sweet aroma of body odour that emanates from the grim looking strangers at our sides. The rides are monotonously slow, the moods of the driver questionable, and his habits jerky. There are however, behaviours that can be developed to improve the quality of our commute.

The salvation of every commuter lies just beyond the understanding of the enigma that is public transit: it is inherently anti-social; depths of people with something to say, and none with the gumption to converse. It’s why most of us put our bag on the empty seat beside us; why we look out the window when someone sits there; why we generally look as unapproachable as humanly possible. Most of us.

The next time you’re riding the roach-coach, think of the select few who refuse to follow the flock. They fight the call of quietude, and I daresay they reap the benefits. Such defiance makes a long and boring ride interesting, transforming it into an experimental journey of abandon and glee.

So sit next to the person who looks the most uncomfortable, the person who looks like they wish to be left alone. Strike up a conversation-ask them if they have the time. Worst-case scenario: you’ve found a friend, and your destination is a few stops closer. Best-case: they rebuff your advance, forcing you to go to work on them.

Make faces at children; sit uncomfortably close to others, lean on them; utter benign comments about people that board while gently elbowing the person closest to you in friendly secrecy; sneeze and bless yourself; passionately pick your nose; sing to the tune of someone else’s walkman.

There is a buffet of gestures and dialogues at your disposal, all of which invite others to share in your suffering, or at least to ensure that their ride is made less enjoyable than your own. Such selfishness is rewarded with a true feeling of power – you are among the few who refuses to be silenced by the social mores that keep us from piercing each other’s bubbles of personal space. You will quickly learn the joy that can be taken from a once dreaded routine.

The feeling is infectious. It can be spread to other passengers-sometimes it can even break the tension that keeps us all so very private, and introduce all riders to a social outlet they never knew existed. Sometimes.

Most times however, the feeling just helps to add a laugh into your day. It helps you to smile when you finally reach your destination. Ultimately, you can step off the bus, the train, or the subway, feeling like you got there just a little bit quicker.