Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Part Zwei

     The trip home was particularly challenging.  I just missed the red line ... as in, trying-to-fish-my- pass-out-of-my-purse-as-the-train-pulls-away-from-the-platform just missed it.  Then the green line, that I mercifully only have to take one stop, was so packed with warm humanity that I thought I was going to vomit.  I had to do my fake Lamaze breathing to try and still my tummy. (I call it Hamaze - Heather + Lamaze - created during the first pregnancy when we couldn't go to a class because of our retail schedules and no car.)
     Then when I got on the blue line, I just scored a seat when the warm humanity followed me on board.  The train was so hot, add to it the people jammed up against each other, my warm coat, the train rocking up and down, no air flow ... do you see where I'm going with this.  I could feel the nausea well up, so I closed my eyes to calm myself.  When I opened them, who was jammed up together in front of me?  My German family.  The father was carrying the little girl, her possible twin brother was at his knees, the older son was behind him holding onto his mother who I could hear but not see.  Thankfully, the man seated beside me jumped up and offered it to the father, but his little girl wouldn't sit, so I motioned for the little boy to sit instead.  I offered my seat, but still she wouldn't budge from his hip, so the father remained standing.
     And then I thought, please God, don't let me throw up on these children.  The train jostled and lurched, feeling as though it was getting still warmer.  The little boy was eating a granola bar.  When he finished, he tugged on his father and tried to hand him the wrapper.  His father just laughed, desperately trying to hold onto the daughter with one hand (plus coat and book bag) and the rail with the other.  I laughed then gently took the wrapper from his hand, folded it and put it in my purse.  I said, "no matter how old they are, they're all the same."  The father said, "I take it, you speak from experience."  Oh yes, yes I do.
     All the while, my internal monologue was still playing ... pleaseGodpleaseGodpleaseGodplease GodpleaseGodpleaseGod ... not on the children.  On the snotty chick next to me who thought I didn't offer up my seat and wanted to make a "show" of offering up her own to the father.  Ok, I can throw up on her.  No, no, of course I don't want to throw up on anyone.  Thankfully, we got to Maverick station which usually clears out a large portion of the train and my German family got off, too.  Now I could breathe a little easier.  But I still thought about puking on the chick next to me.

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