I am a commuter


The car was in the shop. Something about the catalytic converter. The other car is just plain past its useful life. Both left me with the only option of public transportation to get to work. Cram with the poor slobs who can’t afford a car. Those suckers. That’s me for the day, hopefully.

Packed my lunch — cup ramen and a coke. The lunch of true sad sacks everywhere. Took a jacket with me to keep the morning chill away. At the bus stop, the crazy lady with cats mumbles to herself about picking up more kitty litter. I scoot over just a smidge then decide to stand up and pace.

I light myself a smoke. Two inhales and the bus is there. Only a quarter hour until I get to the metro station. Joy!

I watch the blocks go by. There’s slightly less traffic on the bus route, and I can watch the people wake up. There’s a man at the back who’s got a hard hat on his lap and a daughter seated next to him. The cat lady mumbles at the well manicured gentleman who shifts slightly in his seat. He points his knees away. Two students asleep in the front. Another father and his daughter watch the cars go by the window. It’s just people figuring out when to get off.

Here’s my stop at the metro. I pay my ticket from the automated machine out front. Climb the escalator to the platform. The people are still milling about as the first train pulls in. Not mine.

I get on the next one and find a seat facing crazy cat lady. She’s now mumbling at her feet. She’s wearing galoshes on this sunny day. She may know something I don’t. Then I catch a glimpse of navy, and my day becomes perfect.

There’s no word in English to describe the feeling. There’s probably no word in myriads of languages perhaps the Inuits can. It’s the electric feeling you get as you come face to face with beauty. Even these words don’t do that justice.

And now I know why people cram into these confined spaces. It’s the people you can meet.

I don’t say a word as I get off at my stop. Another 10 minutes and I’m at my desk. Yet, I’m still in the metro.

Posted by broderic

Yo! I'm the writer here. Super sauce.

One Reply to “I am a commuter”

  1. I missed the paragraph… “and it smelled of urine”.

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