Thursday, August 19, 2010

Dirty looks

I've said this before. I don't like drive-by-parenting...and I don't like dirty looks on the train.
I was being herded through the Loop with the cattle headed toward the Metra. Everyone is headed the same direction, except the one very tall gentleman in the fedora playing the clarinet. That was odd, but lovely. Good job, my friend. Well done.

As I head to the platform, I see the cattle, erm, passengers are waiting patiently (read: swearing, pushing, and shoving. Their kindergarten teachers would be so mortified) for the train. It was a minute or two late, so once it got there the cattle, erm, passengers spontaneously morphed into a swarm of bees and began loading the train. Despite my undying love for crowded, hot, and sticky train platforms in the middle of summer, I navigated my way to a less crowded car.

Thank you, beautiful man who sat next to me for the first eight stops. You were pleasant to sit next to, even if we both were listening to our iPods.

I selected my playlist for the ride, and at some point, some children made their way to the seat behind me and were playing their nintendo something or other (I don't know what the kids call them these days...we had a SEGA genesis growing up and that's about as cool as we got). I noticed the lady in front of me was quite disturbed there were children in this car. "Can they not see this is the ADULTS ONLY car? Did their mother not teach them children should be neither seen nor heard?" she mumbled under her breath. (Ok that is not true, but doesn't it make you hate her anyway? I knowwwww she was thinking it).

I must have been pressing too hard on the seat in front of me with my knees. I've got long legs. It's not my fault. Anyway, I barely brushed the seat in front of me and the lady immediately spun her head around exorcist style and gave me a look that could kill anyone in a twenty mile radius. As she turned back around and I tried to keep from imagining the ways I could irritate her further, Mr. Beautiful next to me started cracking up as soon as he saw me laugh at the lady ahead. Thank you, Mr. Beautiful, for laughing with me through this awkward and unnecessary interaction.

It's nothing a little Cake can't fix. The band, not the tasty treat.


  1. I would have laughed, intentionally making enough noise to irritate the woman.