I’m on the 3:58PM out of the City. I have decided to re-inhabit the first car, behind the engine, and hang with my favorite co-commuters.
Unfortunately, my absolute favorite spot is being occupied by a sleeping Vince Vaughn looking, drunk, thirty something fellow. He sleeps with his left hand tucked far into his pant waist. Far far into is pant waist. Now, I am unsure if his drab green, loosely fitting pocketed T-shirt was originally white. His not-hip, scruffy, un-jump-worthy, barely AirGazan (TM) gym shoes add an overall effect of high-functioning seat usurper.
I’m really not supposed to be on this train. I got caught up finishing off work I didn’t want to do. Some of it my boss tried to do, but couldn’t complete it in part because he recognizes that I have better language skills for official letter.
I give good …. diplomacy.
On Thursday’s I try to get on the 3:18PM because I have to get home and take my children to after-school math club. The club/tutoring is about twelve miles (~20km) from my house – all local traffic – about a forty five minute drive. We have to get there at 6:00PM. Getting home early gives me a chance to wash up, change into comfy clothing, and otherwise prepare for parenting after being in business mode.
That didn’t happen today. The curve ball in the game of day-to-day living. The good news is that, after chatting with my wife, she said she called the tutor and rescheduled the math class due to the previous long weekend. I’m home tonight. Good.
Not as good as the stylish Chris Tucker looking fellow, who is on his cell phone and, like the fast talking comedic actor, has not stop talking on his iCrackerBot since the train cleared the station.
He is a property manager for a large property development group, in charge of residential clients in low-to-mid level housing. He is chatting with a coworker or a colleague about Section 8 housing, a lapsed renter and what to do next. He may be a lawyer. After discussing the business issue, he goes back to chatting, incessantly, about a wedding he is attending and the drama happening around and about him.
I am sitting such that there are at least four or five sleeping heads blocking my view of Dr. Jeckyl-Hyde. This annoys me to no end.
Octomom is here. She is seated across from Chris Tucker and is seated next to an attractive, Laura Kightlinger looking woman. Both women’s legs are crossed daintily. Very “Real Housewives of the Western Suburbs” potential here. Lots of friendly chatting, but Octomom is totally gauging Laura’s “backstabbing friend” quotient. I am not really sure if there is a metric, but a veteran “Real Housewives….” fan knows that there’s always one Housewife, in every location, that is doing the calculating.
Also here are Kirsten Dunzt, Harry Belefonte, Will Forte, Harvey Keitel, and Chris Rock. All are armed.
Happy Thursday. Safe travels.