Sunday, May 3, 2009

Here comes the train...

A scraggly-looking mister stole my window seat on the train back from Kingston. Excuse me, it's assigned seating - D is for Window and C is for Aisle. Geez louise.

When the concession cart came around, scraggles ordered a cheese plate and white wine. I quickly updated my mental picture of mister-window-stealer from "scraggly" to "pretentious." There's nothing really elegant about getting an assortment of cheese on a styrofoam plate, covered in plastic wrap, with a cardboard juice box of white wine...

In any case, I didn't miss the window much since I decided to spend the duration of my trip in a deep jaw-dropping slumber. When I woke up, two older men were talking about their weekly commute. They both lived out in the country (one on the Thousand Islands, the other up by Upper Rideau Lake), and commuted weekly to Toronto for work, leaving their spouses behind. It was an unfathomable life choice for me. Why live so close, but apart from your loved ones every week?

Meanwhile, mister wine-and-cheese was staring aimlessly at his personal Facebook page on his HP netbook. Good times...


This entry was
adopted by Brutus.

1 comment:

brutalturtle.blogspot.com said...

I had to take the train home all the time at night, during my years in hell.

I sat next to the creepiest people getting on from milton, etc. places I've never been to.

But I wasn't a girl dressed in a skimpy skirt so nobody cared about my existence.

Sometimes when a pretty girl walks into the train I fantasize that she's a sadistic lunatic, seeking to violate me.