Riding the Rail:

LightRailConnect.com

Yesterday I took the light rail to attend a meeting for the writing internship I'm doing this year, I love doing this because it makes me feel like I'm part of a greater, metropolitan city. The meeting went great. My future looks great. That is not the point, the point of this blog is to highlight the craaaaazies that frequent public transportation.

As I'm sitting quietly by myself during the hour long journey out east (thinking angry thoughts at myself for not charging my Ipod before I left-and for forgetting a book, damn it) I realize that all the entertainment I could possibly crave is sitting right in front of me. Exhibit A: Very sun tanned man, crispily so, staggers onto the train wearing rubber Crocs and a severely stained ensemble of sweatshirt/pee stained jeans combo. His wandering eyes graze my face, I look towards the floor, towards anything but him. "God please let him torture some other unsuspecting soul for the next hour, please don't let it be me" I'm begging at the universe in a silent plea of desperation. I'm tired, I've been at work all day, I don't feel like battling a drifter in conversation. Bingo, he sets his sights on the older white couple across from me. These poor old people remind me of myself, too nice to wave him away, too polite to ignore him. Better them than me. This crazy old vagabond with a mysterious plastic bag of trickery begins to chat loudly about his time in the mental institution and food stamps and what qualifies as a "food stamp" purchase, apparently liquor does not? As we pass south Phoenix he jumps out of his seat and points at the window screaming "Look Look, this is where I was locked up, court ordered! The judge ordered me into that mental institution, but I got out!" Obviously. Well this dirty, old man with chapped skin and cracked heels must have been struck by some mental inspiration because shortly after passing the mental hospital he hopped off, never to be seen from again. Although his pungent odor did linger...

My ride home was, while less crowded, more creepy. As the sky became dark and fewer and fewer passengers got on and off I started to feel sleepy and cold and ready to curl into a tiny ball and fall asleep on the scratchy, green seats. Not unlike the other crazies on the train, I was ready to kick off my heels and pass out with the best of them. This was until I heard the tangent filled, bumbling ramblings of a giant, obese man from New Mexico (as he proudly proclaimed) accosting another gentlemen who was on his laptop. "Haaaaaay, say you've got a laaaaptop there don't chya!" Exclaimed the overweight traveler. "Whatchya lookin' at there, you got email? Are you a Democrat or Republican?" O God, this poor, uptight gentlemen in a sweater that looked like a carpet you might find in your great-grandma's closet was not in the mood. But I was in the mood. I live for this stuff. This is grade-A, quality entertainment. As long as it's not happening to you, this is the best fun that money can't buy. I don't remember all of the details of this conversation, it went on for miles and miles...but I do remember specifically what this man in the sweater looked like. I remember the pattern of it, his newsboy cap, his faded khaki trousers...and low and behold, I SAW HIM AGAIN THIS MORNING ON MY WAY TO WORK, WAITING FOR A BUS, MANY MILES AWAY FROM THE LIGHT RAIL!!! As I was listening to NPR or John Jay and Rich and fumbling with my morning coffee I whizzed past this man all the way on the other side of town, same sweater, same pants, same newsboy cap!

It seems insignificant, and it is. Seeing this same man again did not alter my day in the least, but it did give me a tiny surge of happiness as I drove past him. The thought flashed into my brain "we are all connected, the world really is so small."