Another day, another commute. I’ve actually missed you, train. Getting to a train early has proven a clever experiment in human behavior, namely the first true day of glorious weather only Chicagoians know how to enjoy…that first crack at humidity, that first bead of actual sweat from walking outside…as you glance around, you see quite a burage of human existence that can only happen in an urban atmosphere….a Hasidic Jewish man playing solitaire on his iPhone…a gaggle of career gals, one spilling her kale salad all over herself, only to be offered a Kleenex by the well-groomed (and always prepared) grey haired Boy Scout, surprisingly missing a wedding ring…the scruffy yumminess of a mountain man posing as a stock broker, his noose of a tie stereotypically loosened….the men in tweed suits (really?, it’s 80 degrees..) shooting the shit, channeling the Pete Campbells and Don Drapers of the world…conversing on whether or not the Bulls will win another championship or if Derrick Rose is forever doomed to bench warming…
In the days before cell phones to distract from human interaction, how did we ever get to know each other?
Oh train, how I’ve missed our chats and ponderings of human behavior…you make me feel alive.
