The Friday Night Subway Chronicles, Part 2

It started with me playing "Who in the room is hot?" while I munched on the first of the day's subs. I play it pretty much every time I find myself in the Subway or otherwise alone in a crowd of people. That shouldn't surprise you. I am a man, and men are pigs. What I tell myself though, is that I need to be prepared in case a random stranger comes up and proposes sex, like happens in the Penthouse Forum with regularity. Thinking ahead of time would pay off in such a situation I say. The last thing you would want is to be caught off guard.

That's when I noticed her crying. It wasn't a cry of melodrama that is a plea for the world to share in your troubles. No, she was trying to bear whatever it was alone the best she could. She was trying to stop, but pain was spilling over the dam and she couldn't. There was something wrong with this woman. It was the soft, suppressed sob of something real.

I couldn't help but wonder what it was and I quit looking around for hotties. I wanted her to stop. I wanted whatever was hurting her to go away. I don't know why really, I mean, I didn't have a dog in this fight, but I wanted her better and it brought back memories. Of back when I was deciding how I would accumulate my life dollars and how one factor that went into the decision was the thought that I would be helping people. Ha. I'd almost forgotten. It seems like that was some other life on some far distant planet now.

Why won't she stop?

I suppose I might have helped a person or two today. As some sort of Sherpa guide to a paid insurance claim. Not exactly what I had in mind when I was living that other life on that other planet so long ago. A lot of times I told people their medicine wasn't covered on their insurance plan and said I didn't know when they asked why. Then I took their money. Making a difference, cashing my paycheck. That's what I do these days.

I really wanted her to stop. I would have given her my sub if it would have helped. I would have poured over the pharmacology texts all night long the way I used to. My lunchtime was turning into a trip down memory lane. I long ago turned cynical and jaded and contemptuous of almost every human I come in contact with and I really wanted this woman to stop crying!

She broke out her purse and started to freshen up her makeup. That's when I saw her name tag. It was time to put her game face on and get back to work. That part I understood. More than once I've had to pull myself together, put my game face on, and head back to the store.

She finally stopped.

She shot me a death glare as she walked by. Probably because she thought I was trying to figure out if she was hot or not.

A tear streamed down her cheek as she left.

I put my game face on.
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The Friday Night Subway Chronicles, Part 2
The Friday Night Subway Chronicles, Part 2
Reviewed by malaria
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Rating : 4.5