Tuesday, July 28, 2009
My phone, which usually keeps me preoccupied during my morning commute, is in the shop right now, so instead I spent the ride listening to the screech of train wheels and trying to amuse myself. First I folded my arms and started aisle surfing, shifting my balance from one foot to the other as the train snaked along the tracks. The goal is not to lose your balance and have to touch the pole. The pole is where old strains of smallpox live.
Then I started fiddling with the contents of my backpack. Backpacks, ladies; they're the purses of tomorrow. And of gradeschool. So I crouched down to the ground and sifted through items, listing them like a doctor in surgery. "Wallet. (Wallet.) Notebook. (Notebook.) Fritos. (Fritos.)" I was not seated because the train was packed as usual. Only the vigilant can notice, as the train slows, who is adjusting themselves in preparation to get up, leaving a free seat. Sometimes it is a subtle movement, like a woman applying lipbalm more quickly than usual.
As luck would have it, before I had to start counting Russians, I saw an altercation. An older, bald man and a young blond girl went for the same seat. To give you a visual, the roles will be played by Scarlett Johanson and Clint Howard.
Ron Howard's brother: I was going to sit there.
SJ: Well, we were both going for this seat, but I got here first.
Creepy Rodney: Not really.
Sofia Coppola's BFF: Yeah, I did, and you nearly knocked me over trying to push me out of the way.
Balok on Star Trek: (mumbling)
Lips McGoo (standing): Excuse me? You cannot talk to me that way.
Radio Operator from Austin Powers 2: I didn't say anything.
Mrs. Ryan Reynolds: You called me a "dumb b***". You can't call me that JUST 'CAUSE YOU'RE A WHITE MAN! A**hole.
He turned away, and she sat back down. The irony was lost on all commuters, and only I was left giggling.
Written by Abbi Crutchfield
Labels: You Can't Make This Stuff Up