Angela and Mike met on the train tonight. Mike was tall, with sunglasses shading his eyes at 1:00 am, his skin even darker against a ripped white t-shirt. Angela had sat down on the last empty seat. She had short blond hair (not her natural color) and glasses that were firmly set in place on her face.
Mike swayed with the movement on the train, his skinny body not able to stand straight. As soon as he got on the train, he was confused, and Angela said, “Honey, where are you trying to go?” They both misheard each other as they started talking, but did not seem to mind that they were not in the same conversation.
“Angela, I will pay you five dollars for your seat. My key broke.” Mike showed everyone within three feet the pieces of his key in his hand.
“Honey, you take my seat. You go on ahead. Keep your five dollars, I think you need it more than I do.” Angela smiled at him, a woman from New York in her mid-thirties, sure of herself and place in life.
They chatted with the rattling of the train punctuating their conversation. They involved a pair of club promoters (wearing the latest 80s fashion reborn), who then exchanged information with Mike.
When Angela got off at her stop with a friendly goodbye, Mike spent 10 minutes trying to put his key back together. When he finally gave up, he shoved the pieces in his pockets, sighed, and stepped out through the open doors.