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Eran's blog

Morning commute January 3rd 2007

The problem with NextBus and especially with having it on my phone is that it makes me run. Had I not known that my next train is 5 minutes away I would gladly have missed it. Ignorance is, after all, bliss. But armed with that knowledge I boarded the N at exactly 8:21; Huffing, puffing and sweating but on time. In my head, my mom’s voice informed me that I’m so gonna catch a cold because of this.

The train is, of course, packed and I’m left standing next to this girl whose eyes are staring off so deep into nothingness that I can’t help but think she’s seeing into parallel dimensions. Well, as long as she doesn’t start speaking in tongues I figure I’m safe so I stand there next to her and try to explore the depths of nothingness myself. There’s nothing there, I give up.

It’s in moments like this, when surrounded by a sea of people that I realize just how disconnected I am from the rest of humanity. Newspaper headlines might make sense to you but they’re a riddle to me. Really, who needs Sodoku? I have the morning papers. Based on random glimpses of this morning’s headlines I surmise that the 49ers (having lost to everyone else) are now taking on the city of San Francisco and that a woman named Shana (there’s a picture, I suppose she’s hot) is no longer part of the Machine; I can only assume she is now part of the Man. God speed, Shana, give’em hell!

I arrive at Caltrain early and navigate my way between the masses to a bench where I am left to reflect on just how weird these people are and the world they live in. *Achoo*

Bless you.

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Filed under: Fiction

One Response - Comments are closed.

  1. Nick Douglas says:

    Stave off the cold and exploit Caltrain’s liquor policy: Bring a Screwdriver in a thermos.

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