Waiting to Collide

The T and More

I rode the train home from my job for the last time today.  I felt nostalgic for approximately 32 seconds, and then the depressing nature of the T set in.

I accidentally touched a man’s hand on the railing as I was descending into the depths of the station.  He jerked it back as if withdrawing from a viper.  I apologized, and he glared at me.

I hobbled onto a car, and a woman firmly stomped on the foot attached to my sprained ankle.  She turned to look at me in annoyance when I noticeably flinched and inhaled sharply.

Later…

My phone died a painful death last night.  I drove to the CambridgeSide Galleria to have Apple replace their defective product.  A nice enough employee explained that I had to make an appointment online to check in, and walked me through it.  He went over to help someone else.  There looked like there might be a line, so I consulted with the dour gentleman in front of me:

“Excuse me, are you in line?”
“No, you have to, like, make an appointment, or something.”
“Well, actually, you can do it from that computer in the corner.  Just click the link, and follow the directions on screen.  It’s pretty simple.”
“Do you work here?”
“Um, no.”
“Because you’re acting like you work here.”
“Uh, no, I just thought you needed a hand.”
“Yeah, you’re acting like you work here.”
“Um, OK…”

The woman who gave me my new phone (I have lost all of my contact numbers, please call me!) was quite nice, and told me she liked it in Boston.

And then told me about multiple friends who have been mugged here.

Two more years.  Education better be worth it.

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