ConnecticEnergy tells me of an interesting seatmate this morning heading in from Stamford. An attractive woman in her 50s (GMILF, anyone?) gets on in one of the rich-people towns and takes the seat next to Connectic. She’s “dripping with diamonds”, he says, with painstakingly manicured nails, in a mink coat and designer suit underneath.
Better yet, she commences chatting coquettishly with Connectic: What are you reading, bet it’s more interesting than what I’m reading (NY Times biz section), etc. She has a manila envelope on her, and Connectict sees a resume inside.
She then asks Connectic if the conductor has come through. He tells her the conductor has indeed.
“That’s good,” she says. “Because I don’t have a ticket, and I don’t have any money.”
Then it gets stranger. The Grey Gardens dame proceeds to lean over to Connectic’s ticket stub that’s jammed in the seatback in front of him, and rips it in a certain way so that, when the conductor happens by, he breezes right past without asking for her ticket.
When the train arrived in GCT, it was pleasant smiles, have a wonderful day, all the best.
Obviously the woman knew something of the special code conductors use on the ticket stubs, a certain rip or punch connoting a certain number of riders going a certain distance.
Does anyone out there have a little insight as to what the various tears and punches on the stubs indicate?