By: Gabriela Yareliz
Another day, another set of observations from the train and curiosities. A bald tattooed man is deep in his book. He feels the need to read while leaning, full body, into the aisle. He makes faces while he reads like he is performing for us. Like a mime Reading Rainbow.
The air is thick and sticky. A larger woman opens her enormous black Rebecca Minkoff bag and pulls out a jar of Talenti gelato (I kid you not). She whips out a spoon and starts shoveling ice cream into her mouth like she is racing against her own melting. She is determined to stay cool. The young man next to me smells like he had a bad bathroom day. Like he was lactose intolerant and ate a tub of ice cream. He smells like waste. (I have a weak sense of smell, so if I can smell it, it must be strong). He fidgets a lot. We weaves in and out of sleep. His hair, cut in a shape that resembles a broom, nods from side to side. Was he food poisoned? Ugh. The worst. We smell him with compassion.
One young woman with beats on and big blue eyes seems to be crying while clutching a box she is definitely trying to return and drop off at UPS. It has no label. It does have that battery drawing. Under the box, she has a white Stanley cup between her legs.
Two women in their 20s with bright shirts are sitting across the aisle from each other and having a full blown conversation across the aisle. They gesture and take up space, looking like they are about to pat-a-cake.
Some men get on. They look like trouble, and they wear NY Yankees hats even though they don’t look like they have watched a day of baseball in their lives. Please, they would definitely be bored.
One woman is grading papers, even though she looks like she is in high school herself. A woman wearing scrubs chugs Celsius gripped between her acrylic nails.
I glance out of the window and see a local train competing with our express train. It beats us to the station and doesn’t even wait. It rattles away. The soiled man next to me pulls his shirt over his nose. I am confused. Is he going to vomit now? God help me. The girl with the UPS box gasps as she watches the local train vanish into the tunnel. Talenti lady had put away her ice cream to bolt for it, but then, she relaxes into her slower pace realizing that train waited for no one.
GABRIELA YARELIZ 