train riders

Yesterday as I boarded the Route 100, I saw a young man with Downs syndrome sitting in the third row, looking at his hands. He was wearing a Chuck E. Cheese shirt - with an embroidered logo, which I assume distinguishes Chuck E. Cheese employees from mere enthusiasts. I ended up sitting one row behind him, on the opposite side of the aisle.

At the next stop, he looked very excited to see an older lady get on the train and pay her fare. He slid over to the window and waved at her in a small motion. She walked right by him to take an empty seat in the back of the train, of course, since she didn't recognize him, and the young man looked crestfallen. He grabbed his hair with both hands and bent forward until his forehead resting on the seat in front of him. His face betrayed anguish.

That's when he started with the heavy metal lyrics, whispered under his breath so only I could hear them.

This SUCKS! You're FIRED! You're a FAILURE! I HATE YOU! You're going to get WHAT'S COMING TO YOU!!

He started very soft, but as the train pulled into 69th St. yard he got a little louder. You're going to HELL! I wonder if he works within earshot of the kids.

too kewl to eeww

I was walking down 19th St. after work. After a few minutes, I became aware of a cold, wet feeling where my nylon satchel was brushing against my arm and hip. I peeked inside the exterior pocket and remembered a banana I'd put in there last week. At the time, said banana had been fairly ripe, and I'd brought it to the office intending to eat it before it died on our kitchen counter.

At this point, I realized that the banana had melted into juice and slime and was passing through the fabric of my bag. It was cold because the A/C in my office is aggressive enough to preserve a corpse.

I decided not to extract the dead banana right there in full view of downtown, rush-hour Philadelphia. Instead, I adjusted my shoulder strap so the bag was held with a centimeter gap between the contaminated surface and my body.

Fortunately, fruit flies did not carry me away before I had a private moment near a trash receptacle.