Strange train

On a day like today, the city should (and did) smell like chocolate.

Warms me up.
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Today I was late (a wardrobe malfunction) and caught the 8:02 into the city.

Now I’ve got that bloody Takin’ Care of Business song in my head.

I was singing Sir Elton’s Daniel in the shower, which was way better comparatively.
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There are some familiar faces on this train.

The lady in the fur coat who reads trashy novels and wears really bad sweaters. Today it’s a gray and teal and yellow and red and purple thing that looks like a drunken clown threw up on her. She seems to like teal. Someone must’ve told her it looks good on her. Not so much.

There’s also the woman with the shiny brown crew cut who looks like a raging bitch but is probably very nice. She’s got a regular posse of people she sits with and they seem to have fun. Looking like that, I wonder what she does for a living. Something in law enforcement maybe. Or government.
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spik·y adj
1. with one or more narrow sharp points
2. easily made angry (informal)
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I was guessing the Microsoft Word dictionary wouldn’t have spiky, but there it was.

It’s interesting that spiky could also mean angry.

I wonder if she knows that her choice of hairstyle projects that image. Maybe.

The guy I know who is sometimes called Spike couldn’t be more kind and down to earth.

But I think it’s different for dudes.
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The wardrobe thing wasn’t so much of a malfunction as a case of indecision. It’s really cold here today – a wind chill of 14 below in Aurora – and with all the walking I do, it’s important to be warm.

On the other hand, I am meeting a group of former co-workers for drinks after work tonight and wanted to look nicer than the usual sloppy corduroys/sweater combo that is my daily winter work uniform.

Thankfully it all worked out.

I’m warm and cute – albeit late – in case you’re wondering.
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Today the conductor passed out surveys. Where do you come from, how do you get to the train station, how often do you ride, where do you work, etc.

I lied.

Jim dropped me off at the train station because it’s so damn cold. But I put a check in the box next to the “drove alone and parked” line because that’s what I usually do and the parking situation is rather sucky at my station.
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They should let us ride free today for helping them with the survey.

It’s what I would do.
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Then there’s this, from the lady in the clown vomit sweater:

It’s that chick who usually takes the 7:42. She’s late today too. She’s always so goddamn friendly to that one train conductor. He gives her water all the time. I don’t get free water. It’s no wonder he’s so nice to her, those big boobs and all. Although it seems like she’s lost weight lately or something. Especially around her face. She's always typing furiously on that Mac. She’s wearing brown tights with black boots. What the hell is she thinking? And that hair. It always looks like she just got shtupped or something. How about running a brush through it before leaving the house, honey? I wonder what she does for a living, looking like that. I bet she’s in marketing. Boy this coffee is good today. I make good coffee.
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The survey kinda bummed me out because it didn’t include a comments section.

I wanted to tell them that the afternoon trains seem to run late more often than not from Chicago to Aurora. I wanted to tell that they should do more to keep people from talking loudly on mobile phones. I wanted to say how much I appreciate Sir Richard on the 7:42 and how he makes my day, every day.
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No free ride today. The guy came through as usual with his “tickets please” announcement as he stepped in our car.

Maybe Metra figures we’re helping them help us.

But I would’ve passed out chocolate or something to say thank you.
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I am listening to: Train songs on iTunes
I am reading: Budget spreadsheets for 2007
And I am: Warm and cute