A few weeks ago, on my way home from work, I sat across from a young couple who appeared to be on their way to a Red Sox game. They had the hats on and the shirts. The young woman was drinking a Pepsi or a Coke, I don't remember the specific brand of drink. Anyway, the point is, she was so not into her date. I mean, it was obvious, even to a casual observer sitting reading the paper after a long day at the office.
She sat down next to a worker bee kind of guy. He was wearing jeans and a plain shirt, and he had a kind of canvas bag with him--clearly also on his way home after the workday. The girl was looking around, doing everything possible to avoid looking her date in the eye, and she dumped her Coke on this poor schmoe sitting next to her. Yes, he was wearing jeans. It's not like he had on a $500 suit, but still--I felt bad for the guy. She apologized and all, but what could she do? He had wet jeans, and she had an empty can. More Coke would be had at the ballpark, no doubt, and I guess he'd have a washing machine at home. But I remember thinking: Glad she didn't park herself next to me.
This is what I thought of last Thursday morning when, on a fairly crowded T day, a young woman sat next to me with a travel mug (which I assumed contained coffee). Yes, those mugs are sort of "spill proof," but she was not only sipping coffee, she was also fiddling with her ipod and reading a book.
That's when it occurred to me that this is what life has become for the average commuter--or possibly the average worker. Our free time is so precious, our private moments so rare, that we have to squeeze everything in. She was going to make the most of her ride. I, on the other hand, was wearing light-colored pants, and more than once I glanced away from my own newspaper to check the status of the cup.
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