The art in the underground Beacon Hill terminal is large, illuminous, bug like and freaky, especially after prepping for a long flight with no sleep and gassy food.
There was a Sounders soccer game somewhere along the trains statins entryway, because when the doors opened the place was filled with people wearing jerseys and smiles. Happy people, all dressed in the same colors, nothing could possibly go wrong.
I had to stand next to the closing door, that is how tight the car was, and immediately I could smell beer and sweat and marijuana. I've had cheap dates in California, I know these smells. Looking around was just a little bit shocking, there was an abundance of healthy people, happy people, talking to one another.strange times bring about the strings behaviors.
In front of me a large black woman was slumped in her seat, her hand raising to her mouth, slowly delivering a Cheeto. The young guy next to me with the bad haircut and impatient smile either wanted my phone number or a fight, I will never know, he got off at Rainier Beach.
Seven days, running and riding and friends and old and new lovers and a woman I would trust with anything and a couple of hefty moments of confrontation. Rarely in my life have I known I was in the midst of a life changing moment. Generally we judge those life changers from a distance of time and contemplation. Almost from landing in Los Angeles 7 days ago magic things happened.
A Cheeto is stuck on the large woman's open mouth, I think she is sleeping. I wonder if she might miss her stop.
Fat people and Cheetos, nothing could be better. Are you still in Seattle?
ReplyDelete