Not Always a Day at the Beach

The train is overcrowded for a Monday afternoon.  It's one of the hottest days of the summer, a time when emotions tend to run high. It's as though the sun's heat penetrates skin, muscle, and anything else in between to warm the very blood in our veins to a boil; so that any underlying emotion we're dealing with is warmed to unmanageable levels. The packed train pushes a young, attractive couple into the very last corner towards the front of the car. There are no seats, but that's OK because he leans against an emergency ladder and she leans against him.

They aren't speaking to each other anymore. It's been a long, hot day. Verbal communication is no longer necessary. They've been a couple long enough to know their limits. The day they had planned was one that would get them out of the house while he took care of some overdue business. A trip downtown would be nice. He'd straighten out his birth certificate and get a corrected ID while she window-shopped down State Street. They planned to end the day with a quick bite from McDonald's and a leisurely walk through Millennium Park.

The morning started off quiet, but as soon as they exited the underground Washington stop and hit ground level even the screeching of the train against the tracks was muted by the commotion. They arrived Downtown right around noon when the tourist and business lunch crowd was at its thickest. The crush of people caused them to unconsciously rush to the County building. A leisurely walk is difficult when everyone else around you is moving at top speed. To make things worse, little did they know lunch hour at the County building is one of the least productive times of the day. Lines are long and the only thing shorter than people's patience is the number of county staff. Two hours later they emerged from the well air-conditioned building almost wishing that the process had taken longer.

Meteorologists say that the sun's rays are hottest between the hours of 12pm - 2pm, but in Chicago in the summer it feels as though that two-hour period lasts all day. Window-shopping loses its luster in these temperatures, so they end up walking into any store that has something that even remotely captures her interest resulting in unexpected purchases that, of course, he picks up the way a gentleman should. He's annoyed, but money spent usually puts her in a good mood that will surely pay off later. By the time they make it to McDonald's substituting actual shopping for window-shopping has taken them well into the latter part of the afternoon. The after-work rush starts and they wonder if there ever isn't a rush in the Loop. She's lost her appetite, so he tries to appease her nerves with a overly sweet, iced coffee drink. Looking out at the heat and crowds, he's succumb by the same lack of hunger and cools down with an iced drink of his own. Time to head home. The Godforesaken rush continues onto the train which is where I find them, snuggled in a corner appreciating their proximity to the train car's air vents.

His arms wrap around her for both balance and sensuality. When the train car isn't jerking one way or the other, he uses a free hand to caress her arm, then back, then neck. Her tired eyes convey the enjoyment of his touch. Their frustration with the day dissipates as they get closer to their home stop. Other women on the train look longingly at their embrace. He's young, but tall, dark, and handsome all the same. She's a nice compliment even if her dress is cut a little low for the kids. They choose to avoid any overt PDA which leaves the rest of us to wonder what moves they'll make once comfortable in their own homes. Once two seats open up close to each other, our interest in their young love is dashed when they sit across the aisle from each other. They don't even leave the train hand-in-hand and he never offers to carry her bags. It was nice while it lasted though.

Among Strangers

Anyone who rides the el train in Chicago can tell you that there are many stories to be told about the characters they come across.  This is probably true for any public transportation, actually. Problem being is that you never really know what is going through the mind of someone, let alone some stranger on the train that you can't be any farther from knowing. That's when my mind begins to wander and because I can't know what is factually going on in strangers' lives I make up my own story lines based on surface perceptions. This is the start of a series featuring those fictional characters that I am able to develop from actual people.