[But it's true, even if it didn't happen]

I’m starting to get nervous.
Should I walk away? Should I ask this shoddy untrusting man near by to take over? I’m going to miss my fucking train, I think in a panic.



10 minutes earlier..



I’ve made it.
I stomp the rest of the way lugging my suitcase and backpack uncomfortably by my side and hip. Waking up much to late, I ran out of Kyle’s house, belongings strewn, hoping like hell I'd make it to the train station on time. Thank god, I think. I can’t afford to miss this. I settle in the waiting terminal next to an unkempt middle aged businessman and try to get my life in order. 5-10 seconds later she walks in.

And I thought I was a train wreck.

She’s head to toe glitter, high heeled and poorly dressed for the weather. I hate her immediately. She of course sits directly next to me, neglecting the 100 other open seats throughout the room. Her bags clamber into mine, her purse knocks my arm of its rest, her phone conversation is louder then the over head announcements. I hate her immediately.

For lack of a better name,
The Train station announcer starts to sweep the terminal calling out for anyone riding to Michigan. She’s punching tickets and making her rounds, she finally gets to us. She asks the woman next to me for her ticket. The woman pauses her phone conversation and asks when the train will leave.

“Any minute” she says, and moves down the line.

I shift in my seat and finish off part one of One flew over the cuckoos nest.

But it’s the truth even if it didn’t happen.

I hate being tapped on the shoulder. I hate it almost as much as this woman who’s tapping my shoulder. In my defense, its eight O’clock in the morning and I'm mildly crabby. She smiles thickly showing eighty five percent of her teeth and talks way to close to my face. I want to get up and move.

“Can you watch my things?” she asks, her cell phone still lodged on her face, her smile to unkind, too unnatural. “Ill be right back.”

“Yeah, ok,” I reply.

NO I meant No! Fuck you, self.
She prances off towards the restrooms leaving a trail of loud conversation throughout the noiseless terminal. Minutes, no seconds later, our train starts to board.
Fuck you, self.

I stand there thickly, watching the numerous passengers who’ve been waiting for hours, the passengers who’ve just arrived, the passengers who’ve barely made it, the last of the passengers.

I’m starting to get nervous.
Should I walk away? Should I ask this shoddy untrusting man near by to take over? I’m going to miss my fucking train, I think in a panic. Fuck this I’m leaving it.

I walk/run through the terminal, out the doors, down the platform. Sit down in a sweaty mess, making sure I’m faced to the front. I cant ride trains backward, it makes me nauseous.
4-10 minutes later she walks on the train.
Bags in tact.
I stare out the window appearing occupied.
She glares at me in the reflection as she passes,
leans in behind me and says in her sweetest, "thanks for nothing."

Fuck you, self.