Tuesday, September 23, 2008


I'm on the Metrolink, heading south. The view is ultimately californian.
Perfect blue ocean underlined by the rooves of beach "cottages". It's really a nice day out.

The woman in the row across from me is an amazing specimen.
She's more or less (I'd say more) the female version of Brad Pitt's character in "Burn After Reading". She must be thirty seven.
I could be off.
She's wearing rather normal looking sports attire; white T, blue shorts, white ankle socks and running shoes.
On her right arm are two plastic pink bangles.
They are covered in plastic rhinestones. This arm is throwing what might be gang signs .
Her head is swiveling, her torso lurching, and her mouth pooching to the beat of the sweet tunes coming out of that great pink diskman.
Her luggage is speckled with skulls.
Twice now I've watched her pull a tube of sticky pink lip gloss from her backpack. She applies the gloss with a steady hand as her head continues to swerve.
Her arms are behind her head now, belly resting short, bronzed legs. She's mouthing the words to a song now. Every once in a while the swerving double times and her face becomes violent.

I do not know what to make of this woman, but I'm certainly glad that she's sitting on this train, in that seat.
Quiet characters are my very favorite. She's obviously a pretty big personality, but I haven't heard a peep. She's not disturbing anyone, she's just throughly enjoying that diskman.
Rock on, lady.

Haha. Agh. I'm sorry, I really wish I had a video of this for you.
There is obviously a great guitar solo in her head right now, because she is about to loose her SHIT.

(2:35PM She's shimmying.)