Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word

The spring-like weather continued as I marched my way downtown to the train station, with a slight breeze that makes everything smell fresh and clean. I chatted with the Ice King, who, sadly is married, because he’s turning out to be a really nice guy. He told me the story of being in IT for years then getting laid off. Now he had a job he doesn’t really like, but, as he puts it, “I can do anything for five years until I retire.”
We boarded the train and I took a seat in the front of the first car. Turns out the first car is where the elite commuters sit, and I’d earned my place a seat among them. As we approached the Broadway station I saw the Italian standing on the platform. I know he usually rides in the first car, at the front, riding backward. Sure enough, he got on the train and sat in the seat right in front of me. He smiled (dazzling smile) and said “good morning,” as he tried to squeeze his really long legs into the small space between us. I smiled and responded, then looked out the window.
I actually pretended to look out the window, because I could see his reflection in the glass. He had grown a mustache since I last saw him. I’m not sure it was a good look for him, but as I studied him he folded his hands in his lap and looked very much like the nervous school boy who was awaiting his turn in the principal’s office. I knew he was looking at me, and when I took my gaze away from the window and looked at him, he just stared back. We sat, looking into each other’s eyes, albeit uncomfortably, for several seconds. I smiled and returned my gaze out the window.
I did catch a glimpse of his name badge, although I couldn’t make out which company it was for. And it turns out he may be middle-Eastern. His name was some variation of Michael, either Micah or Hicam, I couldn’t be sure. We rode in silence until I began wrestling my backpack on, he adjusted his legs to make room for me and laughed a little as I got my hair stuck in the back of my jacket. I stood up to leave and he gave me another dazzling smile and said “Have a good day.” Ahhhh, that smile.
I reached the bottom of the stairs at the station, and was still pondering the Italian when I saw Mr. J headed up the sidewalk toward me. I took a deep breath, put a smile on my face, and braced myself for the cold shoulder. But no such luck. As soon as Mr. J reached me on the sidewalk, he reached out and tried to pull me against him in a hug. I put my hands on his chest and said “Whoa, I guess you’re not still mad at me.” He continued to try and pull me into a hug, but I stepped back and held my ground.
“I’m just trying to love up on a girl on the street,” he said.
Unbelievable. I just stared at him and shook my head.
“You know, if you would give up a little ground, not make everything about me coming to town and doing things. You could come out here to my house…”
“Uh, no. I gotta go.” I headed down the street.
“Okay, whatever…”
Unbelievable. Just…un…freakin…believable…

January 31, 2012 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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