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June 07, 2005
please stand clear... The time spent on a crowded train is a good time, I keep telling to myself, as it keeps getting longer and sometimes even longer than that. And it is okay. I should probably read a book, or maybe listen to one, or maybe at least draw on the train again, into a tiny something... as I had done years ago... just use the search field and type in a word like... subway... or moleskine... or... I was the guy with a big vornado fan today. I had a seat, at least on the way back. Across from me was a lady reading a rather heavy book with the name "good & food". It was about losing weight in some new and incredibly natural way. And the lady across from me did not look too happy reading it. I imagined what would possibly happen if she indeed lost all of her weight, and it was a very horrible thought. Hmm, I think she looked just perfect the way she was. But how could I possibly tell her that? We would probably both die if I did. The two women next to me (at least for a while) were talking about the pretty things on garnet hill. (or was it: "like, garnet hill"...) And one of them wore a very much admired charm bracelet. The other one had incredibly special eyelids. They looked as if they were made out of moss perhaps? Or could it have been cork tree bark? Maybe just a lush layer of thick, carpety velvet? Fascinating. Oh, and they were oh-ing and ah-ing themselves through a glossy and heavy catalogue filled with pornographically shot pictures of silver pinocchios and toy trains and dice and crosses attached to glittery things... or the other way round. There were two women at the other seats near the far window, one of them reading a book called "dry" the other one gasping and grasping onto her completely dieted away chest. As if she attempted to re-digest the last breath she had taken, sinfully perhaps. Or at least secretly and fearfully. I was rather concerned. The woman reading "dry" appeared to almost weep as well. Her head was of unexpectedly large proportions. Her incredibly heavy hait combined to two sculptures resembling sir Norman Foster's London City Halls. (He designed one. She had two on her head.) A new conversation was started next to me. A woman used very complex sentence structures, those that belonged written, not spoken, to describe, with quite a healthy amount of emphasis, how much she was concerned that her recent report on the differences of teaching "there" and "here" was not welcome with the deserved amount of enthusiasm among her peers, to the level where she began to have doubts if they were indeed her peers, or maybe just a pack of hungry wolfs, out there to... her good looking gentleman friend agreed, while using his fantastically shaped man purse in a very well rehearsed way. A woman with white shoes decorated with green hearts looked lovingly up from her soft cover book onto the salt and pepper colored hair of her suit wearing companion, while he, with his lips slightly open, gazed up from his sets of stapled photocopies straight under the skirt of a girl lost between two tiny white headphones. "Jason" and his girlfriend took over the space next to the door on the other side of the train. We all knew that he wanted her. She wanted more and used words like "stop" and "it" and body language like "yes" and "there" and "why not more, and why not over here?" Out loud. And then louder. And then so loudly that the lady reading the "food and good" book had to move sweaters out of the space between her and her book... A delicate person was reading about genghis khan in soft cover. The boy next to me read about the pursuit of happiness (his chapter: "the need to sin".) A gigantic man across from me managed to shuffle his tiny ipod in a rather dainty way and out of sight. And I should stop right now... because my next memory is of that lady solving a cross word puzzle in Chinese... but that was this morning... and now the Vornado wind moves over me very softly and I just knocked on wood that this might be a nicely environmentally sound alternative to a full blown air conditioner... I will complain in a few days, I guess... the wood I knocked on was painted. Please stand clear of the closing... ding dong...