Fakes on a Train

The easiest way to explain this is just to say that by the time the second Valium kicked in the train was well its way to its second stop.

Now, this is not a blog about a junkie. But, that being said, when I do get the chance to legally get buzzed on a train, who am I to question the Universe?

The boring part of the story is that I needed dental work. Gum work. Serious gum work that involved needles and pain and...most of you have stopped reading here. No one will read about dental work. No one even wants dental work. Including me, hence the Valium. It's the only way to get me in the dentist chair.

Now, the Valium is meant to be taken the night before the procedure and then again one hour before. The caveat? - I am not allowed to drive under the influence and no one could take me. But, lucky me, I live about two miles from a train station and my dentist's office is about two blocks from one of the stops along the route. Trust me, as a semi-rural, suburb, So. Cal. resident, this is lucky.

I walk to the station around 8:20, arrive by 8:50, buy my ticket and, as my appointment is at 9:40, I take my pill. All is fine. In fact, all is Groooovy. My train arrives on time, there are plenty of seats. I take one in an empty row that's slightly elevated above the others, providing me with a clear view of many of the other passengers in front and behind me. And I feel fine. "Life is fine. Fine as wine. Life is fine." (You get bonus points if you can name that poet.)

I like this spot because I'm a people watcher. The middle-aged Asian woman sitting across from me never opened her eyes. She wore pristine black tennis shoes, matching socks, and clutched a box of Kleenex in one hand and a single tissue in the other. She dabbed her nose as rhythmically as a metronome and I am still hard pressed to tell you whether she was ill or inconsolable. And as the drugs in my system began to present their affects, I had the urge to inquire about her dilemma. In my mind's eye I pictured the scene..."'Scuse me, ma'am. You ahwright?" Her dark eyes would blaze open and in Korean whisper-spell her ailment. And me, well, I'm not that good of a speller in English let alone...

Passenger two was a very thin Hispanic man in his early 40's. His dress was a throwback from MC Hammer days. Baseball hat on backward, purple parachute pants, tan tank-top, gold chain. He boarded at that second stop, Buena Creek, when the Valium made it seem as if the train were still moving, the world seeming to move in and out, not side to side and not stopping to let this new fixture on. He kept his hands in his pockets the whole time and looked around nervously. When the train cop (marshal? security? rent-a-cop? well?...in my defense, he did have a gun. I know, I stared at it a little too closely, leaned into the aisle as he...) walked passed both of us, MC's eyes followed him to the back of the car. As soon as the cop(?) moved to the other side of the train, MC moved to a seat directly opposite of where he had been sitting, he kept his hands in his pockets this whole time.

Eyes-closed Asian lady and Hands-in-Pocket MC and I all arrived at the next station, Palomar College. I see a stocky man, thirty-something, wearing a hooded navy sweatshirt, walk past the window, to the other side of the platform. He had white ear-buds in and immediately pulled his hood to cover his ears and the back third of his head. Not the whole head, nor the face. At this point, to me the face blurred and I tried to focus on my own ear buds, the pod cast of This American Life detailing the story of a cop who had to arrest a chimpanzee. The hooded man faded into a dream of himself.

And I guess the easiest way to end this is to say that it's lucky the walk from my stop to the dentist's took very little time, even though I shuffled there. Also easiest and kindest not to mention the next two hours, the two hours that the valium was actually intended for.