Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Riding the train

On the train on the way home from work tonight I decided to stand at the end of the car I was in instead of sitting. This gave me a fantastic view of the other passengers. It was absolutely wonderful. I was enthralled with the variety of people riding the train with me. A few of them stood out in particular.

To my left was a girl about my age. She was staring at a baby near her, seemingly lost in thought. What was she thinking about? Was she wanting to be a mother herself? Was she in a relationship and wondering if it was right? Did she have a little brother or sister, niece or nephew she was worried about? At one point she opened up her purse and revealed a small, stuffed teddy bear with what looked like a pair of hospital scrubs on. Had she been visiting someone in the hospital? Did she just get out herself? Who was sick? Would they get better? What was their relationship?

There were a couple of guys who looked like they belonged in a coffee shop: faded jeans, styled hair, thick-rimmed glasses. One of them was even sipping a latte through a very thin straw.

My favorite though was an old woman sitting by herself. In stark contrast to the people around her she was done up in the way you would think an older lady would dress up to go out: a brown wool coat buttoned up all the way with a broach at the top. A green scarf made several trips around her neck and a pink, somewhat fuzzy hat sat carefully on her hair. I could easily picture her riding the bus somewhere 30 years ago, staring silently out the window as the world rolled by. She had a great face. You could tell by looking at her that she was quite proper, but had a spunky side and wouldn't think twice about putting you in your place if occasion called for it. I wish I'd had my camera.