Train Weirdo Returns, and Totally Redeems Himself

As the train approached the platform, I jumped out from under the shelter and into the rain.  Just as the train came to a stop, my long-lost Train Weirdo came trudging up the stairs and got on the train right behind me.  I was soaked, running late and tired, so I was in no mood to converse. With my peripheral, I could see him looking at me, but I kept my head down to my blackberry. There were only four of us on the train, and we were all standing up front—an elderly woman, a guy in his 40s, Train Weirdo and me. With all the swinging and swaying on the express train, the elderly woman dropped her cane on the floor.  The guy and Train Weirdo just looked down and stared at the cane, making no move to pick it up.  I looked at both of them with a “really?” expression.  

In my heels and dress (while holding my cell phone, umbrella and giant satchel), I bent down to pick up the woman’s cane.   It wound up getting stuck in between the metal bars so there was a bit of a struggle, on top of dealing with my existing physical nuisances. After dislodging the cane and handing it to the woman, I stood up and Train Weirdo was standing right in front of me.  Ok, I admit that calling him Train Weirdo is just rude because he means no harm, so let me call him by his name—Chris.

I stood up and found myself face-to-face with Chris.  I was taken aback so I couldn’t think of one word to say. “You have a giant moth on your head,” he said calmly. My head was wrapped in a scarf to protect my hair from the rain, so it was not unfeasible that I was unable to feel the giant insect sitting on my coif. Before I could open my mouth or extend my arm upward, he reached for my head.  He grabbed something and held it up in between us.

“Oh, looks like it’s just a little piece of nature or something,” he said.

“Yeah, it must have fallen out of the tree outside my office with all this wind,” I replied. “Thanks.”

“I like your outfit,” Chris said. “I mean, what’s your name? I mean, I’m only asking what your name is because I want to see if it matches your outfit.”

Blank stare. "What does it look like my name should be?"

“Like, I feel like with that outfit that your name should be Verdania or something like that.”

I looked down at my outfit trying my hardest to figure out what he meant.  “My name’s Blair.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound anything like Verdania,” he said. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“What’s your name?” I asked, knowing full well that his name is Chris based on our past encounters.

“Chris,” he replied. “Are you headed back into Center City?”

“Yep.”

“You know, Britney Spears is coming back on tour, and I bet her show is going to be awesome. Tickets go on sale on Friday I think,” he said.

At this point, our train was coming to a stop at 69^th Street Station, so, as much as I’d honestly liked to have kept talking about Britney Spears, I had to say “bye Chris!” and ran off to my transfer.

Now, I’m really regretting missing out on a conversation about Britney Spears with Chris.  Maybe some other time.