The other week, I was coming home from work very late, almost after midnight, and across the car from me was this (fresh-looking) (clean-shaven) (skinny) (young 20s) (shirtless) (hispanic) guy, who had a backpack on and his shirt tucked in through one of the backpack straps, and these big headphones on, that he listened to as he stared off into space.
And, something seemed very, very off with him, with how he was too chill, and how he was listening to music with his shirt off, and just everything.
At one point, he stirs a lot in his seat, then he suddenly settles into it, shifting his arm so that his hand is on his lap and he can play with the hairs below his belly button, which he then does, all lacksadaisically.
A lot later towards the end of the ride when we're on the other side of downtown, then, he stands up, and all of a sudden he looks at the map and looks worried but he does that all without moving too quickly at all, and he asks me, "Sir," what way we're going and how can he find a train going downtown.
So, I tell him that we're actually heading away from downtown now, but at the next platform he can hop off and walk across and catch the train there, and that would take him back into downtown.
At that, he nodded.
After a pause, I asked him if he was visiting the city.
"Kind of," he was like.
As we were pulling into the next station, then, which is where I was getting off, the other train happens to be pulling in from the opposite direction and the guy goes and stands at the car door and is leaning forward like he's chomping at the bit to get off and go get onto the other train, but there's a slight delay in opening the doors, and as soon as they open, it's too late, the doors are closing on the other side and he can't make it in, and the sign above says the next train is coming in 20 minutes.
At that, he stamps his foot mildly and kind of reels around dramatically,and walks away down the platform.
After a few minutes going up the other end of the platform to the exit where I usually get off, I pause and look back, and way down the platform his head is sticking out from behind an advertisement divider, and he's looking at me, and then his head pops back behind the sign and he disappears.
He seemed on drugs, or a hustler, or both, though I don't think I'll ever know, sometimes life is like that.
As I left, I made sure to look back, to make sure he wasn't following me.
He wasn't.
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