Survival of the Commuter

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

The man walking in front of me on the platform turns and gets on the train. I say “man” although I don’t really know. I have no actual proof. He’s wearing pants, so I can’t see his junk. I have to trust the visual cues: no skirt, shoes that could have been made in 1910, and no sign that he owns a comb or an iron. I’m not being critical – I don’t have enough hair to make combing possible, and I haven’t touched an iron since Ronald Reagan could remember where he lived.

It’s a guy thing. Sure, I could have ironed this shirt, but then what would’ve happened? It would have wrinkled. Eventually. Inevitably. I just let it happen sooner. My way is more efficient.

I get on the train following the probable man. I came to the station IN a cab, and now I’m ON a train. Funny how it feels like I’m IN a train.

I sit, facing the man. “Where you headed?” I ask. Verbs are optional in smalltalk.


“I’m so sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be. I’m actually heading home.”

“I’m even more sorry.”

He is not amused, but it makes my commute bearable.

Submitted: August 28, 2019

© Copyright 2023 Robert Kruger. All rights reserved.

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Great Story You got there, and be sure to ready my new Writing Contest Story called Neatness Counts and tell me what you think asap, see ya!!

Sun, June 13th, 2021 7:02am

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