The Odds of Being Good

There is a man who rides the Yellow Line most weeknights around 11pm. I know him now because I have been closing a lot lately. He has a moderately severe case of downs syndrome. He spends a lot of time telling everyone about which stop is next, which stop is his, and generally espousing his public transit knowledge, of which he is very proud. The first night I rode the train with him, he was having a conversation with a friendly man in a brown suit who looked like Adam Sandler and Art Garfunkel. I was really happy how genial this man was being. Tonight, the man (who carries a small, pink, boom box) complimented a young woman on her sweater. She ignored him. This hurt his feelings. He announced a few stops before getting ready to get of at his (and my) stop when a woman finally struck up friendly small talk and they talked about mothers day.

I wonder if I am ever going to be the type of person who will talk with him.

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About Charlotte

In an attempt to figure it all out, I've broken the world up in to tiny pieces and am conquering them one at a time.
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One Response to The Odds of Being Good

  1. Matt says:

    Don’t be that kind of person, it’s not worth it.

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