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.


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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