Monday
In case you were wondering, my new shoes are working out great. I tested them Sunday, and felt comfortably barefoot with nary a nod toward breaking them in. This is a good thing since I had to dash for the train three times between here and the movie theater today. Well, I didn't "have to" the first time: I arrived on the platform, breathing hard, just after the carriage doors shut. The train sat on the platform for another twenty seconds while I looked forlornly through the windows. It's very difficult, under these circumstances, to adopt an attitude of nonchalance. Everyone on the train, looking through the windows at me, knew exactly to what extent I'd been thwarted. Later I made a dash for my Metro Center connection; again, just outside the nick of time. In the first of two firsts: I was shut in the closing doors of a rush hour train. My crowd waited politely as disembarking rush-commuters exited the train. Then we all began our mad crush in. Even in a crowd, the doors slammed shut on just me: one on each shoulder, stopping me cold. Like an elevator, the doors sprang open again immediately and I was able to pack on in. The second first happened while I was standing up the next eight stops. Around Tacoma I got into a conversation with a stranger. We were sort-of introduced by a beggar-man who wanted fifty cents. He was chatting-up the whole car. "Mighty fine weather we got today," he told us, "cold last week, then--bam--hot." This stranger-woman and I then discussed the merits of seasons versus California. The rareness of this human contact, not counting the ersatz group hugs necessary to ride after five, didn't dawn on me until after I'd disembarked. [Cavin]
Then, a 0 sided conversation ensued...
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