The other day on my way back to the office from the RMV, I hopped on the T at Chinatown. While I was waiting, I noticed a guy in his casual Friday-Cape-Cod-Attire. The train station was pretty vacant so he wasn’t hard to miss as he was one of the few people waiting with me.
The train comes and I hop on. I find a seat and sit down and he sits across from me with a book. Of course I sit down next to a drunk guy who’s half in the wrapper.
“I tink yo’-ah boo-tee-ful.” The drunk says to me.
“What?” I say instinctively.
“I think you’re boo-teee-ful.” He says again.
“Thank you.” I say and try to keep it at that.
“Yo’ hay-ah ish pretty.” He says.
“What?” I say trying to make out his works.
“Your hair ish pretty.” He repeats himself but this time he is reaching out to touch my hair but stops just shy of touching it after I give him a look.
The guy in Cape-Cod Attire is peering over his book.
“Thanks!” I say and return to staring at the floor.
“Way-ah you go to shh-coooool?” he asks.
First of all I’m flatter because I am well beyond college age. At this time we are approaching Down Town Crossing and the guy is situating his stuff to get ready to get off the T. However, the Cape-Cod Attire guy thinks he is coming at me. He slams his book and stands up. The drunk guys slowly stands and holds on to the pole so he doesn’t fall. Guy in Cape Cod Attire sits down.
We stop at DTX and the drunk guy gets off.
“I just don’t know. I didn’t get a good feeling about him.” Cape-Cod- Attire guy says to me.
“Neither did I! I couldn’t understand a word he said.” I reply thankful that he was looking out for me. Especially since I didn’t have my pepper spray since I wasn’t approved because the damn RMV forgot the A in my first name.
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