Yesterday evening, the train was ten minutes late and my undeclared (and apparently unrequited) train crush was there with an exotic looking woman. It was decidedly not one of my favorite commutes.
On the upside--despite the fact that much of the sidewalk from the train station (Bellevue) to my car parked on the corner of South and Centre Streets was not shoveled, I made it to my car without once faceplanting into the packed-down-by-feet snow.
In other news, I vehemently loathe people who drive ridiculously fast in the breakdown lane during rush hour, especially when the traffic really isn't all that terrible. I swear, trying to get off or or at any exit with those effers is legitimately life threatening. If I had a bigger car, I'd be one of those traffic vigilantes who drives halfway in the breakdown lane at a reasonable pace so that people can't do that. Vigilantes in the left lane? Annoying. In the breakdown lane? Amazing.
I'm hoping that tonight I learn (a la Geraldine Granger in Vicar of Dibley) that my train crush's woman friend is his sister. Because my first train crush must have switched train times, or been laid off, or moved, because he ceased taking my train. My second train crush I discovered in the winter time, and learned come spring that lurking beneath his trendy leather gloves was a wedding ring. Third time is the proverbial charm, right?
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