Friday, November 15, 2013


     There was almost a middle aged woman throw down on my morning train.  Picture this:
     Snooty woman, all matching black ensemble with a hat that's got fur around the edge.  She's seated.  Another woman gets on, dressed regularly with a large bag that says "St. Marten, the friendly island." She's got really long hair, down almost to the small of her back.  She stands in front of snooty, and her hair (as I've mentioned before with my own hair) flys out towards Snooty.  Snooty pushes it aside and says something like "your hair."  St. Marten takes this as a compliment, smiles and thinks they're about to engage in a pleasant conversation.

     Snooty: your hair. It's in my face. 
     St. M.: what ... Oh, uh sorry.
     Snooty: be careful.
     St. M.: excuse me?
     Snooty: I'm allergic.  I'm sure we don't want me to start sneezing on here.
     St. M.: whatever.
     Snooty: I said, I'm allergic.

     St. Marten turns away. The train comes to Snooty's stop. St. Marten refuses to step to the side to allow her to get off.  This causes Snooty to have to inconvenience herself with an additional step.  As he leaves, St. Marten takes her seat and smiles.

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