Old Friends on a Train

Blogger's been giving me problems as of late. I haven't been able to log in to create new posts or reply to people's comments. So no, I haven't been avoiding my duties as an amateur blogger. The infernal system just wouldn't let me on. I've got a little backlog of posts to get up, but I'll do them one at a time. This one relates to this past Thursday night:

One night after work I walked from the office to the Farragut West metro station, It was a nice night, cool but not cold and I had Nick Cave singing on my headphones. After waiting a few minutes I got on the train to Virginia and caught a glimpse of a familiar face, sitting behind me a couple of rows and on the other side of the aisle. The way the seats were arranged, we faced opposite directions.

For some reason I hid myself, putting my open copy of Fence high up in my lap and hunching over it to obsure my face as much as possible. When the light was just right I could use the reflections on the windows in case he noticed me. He read a magazine for a few stops, and then his cell phone rang. He spent the rest of the time, about thirty minutes or so, chatting with whoever was on the other end of the conversation.

This is someone I've known for probably half my life. While I wouldn't say I'm particularly close to him, I still see him socially once or twice a year. I wasn't purposefully avoiding him. Well, I guess technically I was. But it wasn't like I didn't want to say hello. It became more like a little game, waiting to see how long it would take him to notice me. If at all.

In the end, he never noticed. He started to get off the train a couple of stops before mine and I grabbed his arm as he shuffled by. We made the obligatory, "Ha ha-I didn't see you" exchange, our fingers pointing at each other in mock amusement.

But, of course, the joke was on him. I saw him the whole time. Ha ha.

Tomorrow I should have my review of the Fence issue up. Provided blogger keeps cooperating.

Excelsior.