Wednesday, December 8, 2010

The Long Ride Home

In this story you can find me on my way home from work, maxing it as usual, engrossed in my smart phone. So engrossed, in fact, that when I did happen to look up and notice where I was, I had only one more stop to go, my own.
The small screen read "Lloyd Center" and I settled back comfortably into a haze of technology.
When I glanced up again, the screen had changed. It now read, "Hollywood Transit Center" and I could hear the compelling electronic voice of a woman commenting, "the doors are closing." I bolted up and squeezed past the woman beside me, running pell-mell to the doors and zipping out, just in time to look up at the stops' sign: Lloyd Center. I had raced out to found myself at the wrong stop.
Did I, like a normal person, turn around to force my way back on the Max, as I clearly had one more stop to go? No. No, I acted as though that were my stop all along, walking along the tracks until the sounds of the light-rail faded away, and I could safely turn around and wait for the next train, almost ten minutes away, not having to worry about the judgmental glances and laughs of the STRANGERS surrounding me.