Strangers on a Train

December 5, 2009

I took the train to Philly and back today (for a memorial service for my recently deceased great uncle, Phil). (Phil was a truly great guy and the memorial was lovely, but I need to focus on something lighter for now.) Here are the things I learned about the woman sitting one row back and across the aisle from me from Philadelphia to Hartford.

Her name is Kathy.
She is 49.
She started using drugs when she was 12.
She is on the way to see her son, Josh. She has not seen him in either six months, five years, or six years.
Josh is 27. A month ago, his son was born. His girlfriend is 19.
Josh does not like Connecticut. The people are too stuck up.
The thing Josh looks at first in a woman is her teeth. “Beautiful teeth, dark hair, blue eyes!”
[Amusing comment of her reluctant interlocutor, the man sitting behind me: “That makes sense. You can’t have a girl with a busted-up grill.”]
Josh was in the navy.
Josh may have known a little bit about Kathy’s drug problem when he was a kid, but not too much.
Kathy always put Josh first.
She could have been out partying or being with one of her boyfriends. But she stayed home with Josh.
She knows how it is to be a drug addict, but people need to stop stealing from her.
She’s always helping them, and people are always stealing from her.
When she was a little girl, her hair was blond and curly.
She knows she has to get off the train at a stop that ends in “V-E-R-D” . . . “What? Yeah, that’s it, Hartford.”
She is very angry, because on the phone, they told her and Josh there were only two stops, first Philadelphia, then Hartford. What are all these other stops?
They gave her bad information.
They need to stop doing that.
If Josh finds out, he will call up and get angry.


One Response to “Strangers on a Train”

  1. The image does not show up, though I can copy the URL and display it by itself.

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