Thursday, February 19, 2009

pretty

I was on the train coming home and found a sweat next to an old lady reading a book and wearing a rather fetching winter hat. She looked like a tough old bird. I found her inspiring and busted out my book. I paused and let my eyes wander around the car. To the left of me was a knee and calf poking through a huge gaping hole the length of my arm in a faded baggy pair of jeans. Curious I look up and there is a boy about 17. He was surrounded by his skater punk brethren. He was looking serious and clutching a record in a music store record. They all were. They were quiet and subdued. Must have been a full day of playing hookey or something. He struck me as a good looking kid. Nice sort of Roman profile, kind face. I gave myself a crooked half smile when I got the urge to lean over and say "what's a pretty boy like you doing with a giant hole in your jeans, hmm?" I was on the edge of doing so, but didn't. I half wanted to be the crazy leary lady on the train. Wouldn't that be fun? Where oh where do I get those ideas from? I'm a shade too sane and shy to do it, but my it entertained me. It may just be a matter of time.

It was a good commute home.