Public Transit -- Charlotte and More

Charlotte introduced herself to me yesterday. We had something in common: we had both given gifts of food that night (large portions in American society - see last November's posts about abundance) and we are both white.

Charlotte turned down my offer of a bus pass and says she'll be able to get to her van in Santa Monica just fine. But we're in downtown LA at the time so her night has only just begun. She does offer her hand in greeting; later, I return the favor by waking her up when the train approaches her stop. Doesn't sound like a very nice favor, does it?

Also on the train was a dude lugging a serious stack of books and boxes on a rolly-cart. One of his biceps (while he was holding on to the rail inside the train) would flex with every jolt of the train. That's something I had never really paid attention to on another person. And it made him appear very human to me. But one of the books in this guy's stack was titled 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre.' I felt the need to talk to him before he did something stupid, but my fear and apprehension forbade me. So he got off and went on with his evening. Will he always be human to me?

Note: Public Transit is a favorite topic of mine. Not necessarily because I love it, per se. More so because the experience can be so mundane one day and so poetic the next, miserable one day, enjoyable the next.