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Wednesday, February 09, 2011

The Plight of the Pretty Girl

This morning, there was a very pretty girl riding the train to work. At both the Nine Mile station, where we picked up our initial train, and the Southmoor station, where we picked up our transfer, this poor girl had to fend off several douchebags asking her the time, when the next train is coming, et cetera.

She looked really annoyed.

If I had to put in words what her face looked like, it might sound like this: "Jesus Christ, do I look like a wrist watch? Do I look like a train schedule? I'm just trying to commute, not pick-up douchebags. Leave me alone!"

2 comments:

uncle jim said...

Did she give you the correct time and tell you when your train was gona be there?

James said...

Yep and yep. Then she gave me her number.