A blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman gets on the 5:27.
She’s tall and slim and pretty. She’s got some normal looking shmoe in tow. (Happens a lot, doesn’t it?)
I’m sitting in my new favorite seat–the “judge’s bench” on the crappy old trains, the two square seats at the end of the car, next to the vestibule, that face the rest of the car and are raised several inches higher than the rest of the seats, giving one of the feeling of a judge overlooking his courtroom. If only I could bang my gavel and call for order!
As I’d searched for a seat, a woman had her feet up on the judge’s bench. I stopped next to the seat, which prompted her to move her stankin’ feet. I made a big show of wiping off the seat like a cranky Shea Stadium usher to show her my disapproval for the feet on the seat.
Anyway, back to the tall and slim blonde, right?
The train was pretty full. Blondie had decided she wanted seats together for her and her underwhelming beau. Of course, you’re not going to find two seats together at rush hour, a minute before the train departs. But that didn’t stop Blondie. I mean, she’s probably never paid for a drink in her life. For all she knows, a Ketel One-and-tonic costs 50 cents. Or 50 dollars. It doesn’t matter, she’s not paying.
Blondie quickly went about petitioning people to change seats–moving a person in the aisle seat of a three-seater into the available aisle seat of the two-seater across the way. And people went along with her master plan!
A considerable line built up in the aisle, cranky commuters desperate for a seat, as people shuffled seats to make way for Blondie and Beau. Within a minute or so, everyone was settled, Blondie and Beau cheek by cheek in a three-seater.
The train departed. Blondie and Beau took out their respective reading materials, and were quiet as the 5:27 rumbled toward 125th.
Good thing they got seats next to each other!