In Transit

Today, I met someone on the train that died, once. And came back to life. Apparently.

Here is his story:

He was driving with a friend in a Mustang.

They were on the Penticton Highway.

Going 165 MPH, they came upon a wall of flames that had occurred because of another crash.

They went through the flames, not knowing what was on the other side.

It was a semi, on the other side.

It cut their car in half.

He went headfirst through the windshield. (there were no scars on his neck/face/hands)

Every blood vessel in his head, shoulders and chest - according to him - should have burst.

They didn't.

And he can still walk.

It's a miracle.

What brought all this on, you want to know?

I'll tell you.

There was a story on the front page of the free newspaper about a baby named Isaiah.

Here is his story:

Baby Isaiah was born in Rocky Mountain House in October, 2009.

He suffered sever brain damage after his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, depriving him of oxygen.

After being on life support for several months, Docs were ready to pull the plug Jan 20.

The parents went to court. A judge agreed to grant them time for a second opinion.

The second opinion was the same as the first: Baby Isaiah had no brain activity.

Yesterday, they removed the ventilator; Isaiah was unable to breathe on his own.

I had made the comment to a colleague whom was on the train with me, that if he was meant to be alive, he would be able to live without the aid of machines.

That's when Miracle Man piped up.

Oh the people you meet on the train....

Elsie P

PS - I should probably add this man resembled Emile Hirsch in Into the Wild around hour 1.5...

In Transit

Last night's train ride was nothing short of eventful.
It all began when I attempted to board the train and was squeezed out by a couple who were rushing to get seats. I hate non-commuters.
It continued with the woman behind me who rammed her child's stroller in to the backs of my heels. Not once, not twice, but three times. I was fuming. Absolutely steaming.
I hate non-commuters.
As the train filled up at the next station, a woman in a long, white, puffy coat took a standing room only spot right beside me. That sounds fine, right? Wrong. Her ass was pressed against my shoulder. And to make matters worse, she kept shifting from foot to foot, rubbing her bum - which I will add felt quite firm - back and forth in the process.
I hate non-commuters.
I looked up from my book straight in to the big, beautiful eyes of the child that was no longer occupying the offending stroller. With a six toothed smile, all was instantly forgiven. The thoughts of  a nice,  juicy, phlegm filled cough aimed in the general direction of her four year-old were erased.
I love babies.

Elsie P

PS - As I was lost in those baby-browns - haha - I noticed a few guys in their mid twenties staring wistfully at my shoulder.

In Transit

One of my favorite games to play in the morning - especially on a Monday morning - is the Going To or Coming From game. Basically, you spot people and decide whether they were going home to get ready for work or if the were coming from home to go to work. Dead giveaways are:

Smeared mascara/eye makeup

Bloodshot I've-been-up-all-night-drinking Eyes

Nylons with runs in them

Carrying their high heels and standing in stocking feet

Swaying and lurching when the train is stopped

Anything that was designed to look better in dim light.

Bar clothes.

This morning, as I was standing on the platform waiting for my second train to come in, I noticed a rather pretty girl standing, swaying, looking absolutely immaculate...hair that was done up, more eyeliner than I thought as possible for 7:37am on a Monday, a long, cream colored coat (the kind you wouldn't wear everyday for fear it would get dirty) and a black satin clutch. I couldn't see her shoes or what was under the jacket (it must have been short, whatever it was) and she had this over sized flower in her hair. I had the overwhelming feeling that if Lady Gaga started an Army, it would look like this girl.

Elsie P

PS - I have (knock on wood) yet to do the walk of shame on the train....

In Transit

So every morning I have to change trains downtown. There is a beautiful, brand new platform for me to get off on, stroll the length of and subsequently await the next train on. I like to kill time, so I will usually sit in one of the cars in the back so I can walk the whole length of the platform.
The other day, in doing so, I noticed an M/F - You Choose sitting in one of the shelters on the platform. (Sidebar - MF You Choose is a game I play with my sisters, it stands for Male/Femal - You Choose...so for example, if you were to see Johnny Weir walking down the street you might say, MF - You choose. Or the Coach of the Canadian Women's Olympic Gold medal winning hockey team) I couldn't help but notice this MF because it had its finger so far up its nose it was ridiculous. It didn't look homeless, but it also didn't look like it was off to work like the rest of the commuters. I could not get over how shamelessly it was digging around. My mind began to wander...was it digging for a rock of cocaine it had inadvertantly snorted last night? Was there something like a crayon, pea or almond stuck there? Was it hungry!? My stomach lurched at the last thought; it wasn't until I was on the other side of it, looking back the way I came to see if the train was near that I really nearly lost my breakfast. It was blowing its nose in to its bare hands and then shaking the snot off, sending it through the air to land with a loud thwack on the pavement. Vurp inducing, let me tell you!!
As if that wasn't bad enough, it wound up on my train and as we were pulling in to the station asked for everyone's attention. (At this point, I was reasonably sure it was a she, not what I would have guessed initially) She proceeded to ask everyone for money, explaining she wasn't a pan handler but that she got locked out of her house. And she was really hungry. Could we all pitch in so she could get a breakfast sandwich from somewhere? It's only $2 for one. And if she doesn't eat she's going to lose her job. She will certainly almost lose her job if she doesn't start eating breakfast and she would like us to help avoid that.
Some people. I suppose I should mention that she'd gotten up and was about 3/4 of an inch from my face. Unpleasant.

Elsie P

PS - I guess she was looking for money up there in her nasal cavity...

In Transit

I usually take the train around the same time every morning. I would have to say I am never, ever on the same train twice. At least not on purpose. I am spoiled in the regard that the trains are almost always in the station when I get there and I seldom have to plan to be there in order not to miss one. So, as long as I get on a train that departs before 7:11am I can make it in ontime for work.
Seeing as I have a great  memory, an almost photographic memory, I am able to remember people quite easily. I know who gets on what train every morning. I gauge whether or not I am on time by the people I see, not by the clock. It's quite interesting.
One of my very favorite relationships to watch is that of an older couple. They are probably fifty-ish. She is tall and slender, stylish and sophisticated. He is shorter than she is - at least when she's in heels - graying and a little soft around the middle. Every morning, she walks with her hand in the crook of his elbow. He guides her from the car to the platform, on to the train. A stoic chaperone.
On the mornings when I arrived at the same time they did, I would smile, fall in to step behind them and start imagining what they did, where they were headed. I didn't have to imagine too long because one day as I was headed home, I bumped in to them - quite literally - the train platform. I laughed to myself a little, thinking of all the train platforms in all the cities at all the times of day ...
Mostly, though, I love that they are together. Maybe they're having an affair with one another, they meet at the train for a sordid 30 minute love-ride. Maybe they've been married for 35 years and have taken the train together everyday for the last 15 ... maybe this is the only time of day they get to spend together without worrying about work or the kids or what's for supper. Maybe.

Elsie P

PS - I haven't seen this couple in several months. The last time was around November ... Hopefully when the weather is nicer, I will chance to run in to them again.

In Transit

Every morning and every night I board our city's Light Rail Tranist system and make the journey home. From start to finish, it takes me 48 minutes - as long as nothing breaks and no one stands in the way of the door - 2 trains and one 5K car ride to get to the train station.
Sometimes, if I am feeling particularly sadistic, I will walk the 10 minutes to the bus stop, take that festering germ pool 12 minutes to the train station and make my total commute to work a whopping 1hr8mins.
As you can imagine, being crammed side by each with hundreds of other commuters can make for some interesting experiences.
Join me on these commutes by reading the "In Transit" installments of my blog.

Elsie P

PS - some of these stories can be graphic...