On Board #67

Details. Send ’em. Today’s entry comes from reader KC.

March 27, 2010, 5:55 p.m.
4 Train – Bowling Green to Nevins Street

“You don’t want to move over? I paid my money just like you.”

Heads shift to the center of the car, where this middle-aged woman’s voice is rising. What’s happening? Is there going to be a scene?

“I paid my money just like you.” She repeats, louder. Her dyed hair – black, cropped and curly – contrasts sharply with her fuzzy lime green coat. Her thin eyebrows say she is not pleased.

“No I don’t want to move over,” her too-near neighbor retorts, quieter than the former. She’s reading today’s Metro, and her elbows extend slightly beyond the space allotted by the seats’ contours.  Her middle-aged hair – dull, brown – is also short and curly. Her bushy eyebrows slant inward.

She continues reading. The only movement she makes is to shake her head in disgust while muttering, “Some people are always causing a scene.”


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