I rode the blue line train this morning on my way into work. The downtown station is actually closer to my office than the Metra station so my walk over isn’t as taxing on my poor withering body.
The train was extremely crowded this morning; crowded with incredibly cute and beautiful women. I was quite shocked. I had no idea there was such a treasure trove of lovely women riding the blue line in the mornings. Blondes, brunettes, mixed color hair, all of them fresh faced and wide-eyed. It was lovely. Of course, I didn’t talk to any of them. It just didn’t seem right. There’s such a feeling of, “don’t breathe near me”, vibe on the blue line. I did offer my seat to one of the young ladies as I am still a gentleman, but she declined.
That was the extent of any conversation that could have been had. I’m really out of practice with talking to women in a, “we’re not in a bar”, type of way. I know I could do it. I know I could easily say something witty, get her to smile and introduce myself like a total tool bag. But it’s the after that I hate. I have a vivid and evil imagination which causes me to imagine the entire relationship I might have with one of these beautiful women in a matter of a few seconds.
We meet, we smile, we have dinner, we date, we go to a few family parties, we visit South Carolina, we think about living together, she realizes I’m not the man she thought I was, she yells at me about the state of our apartment, she apologizes for her freak out, I apologize for mine, but the ice is already too thin at this point and one morning she tells me that she’s met someone else whom she has a real connection with and she’s leaving.
The train gets to Monroe and she gets off and I feel sad to see her go, even though we never actually said a word to each other. I miss her already. I think it’s a terrible condition I have and it makes me feel pretty depressed a lot of the time. My imagination has gotten me into more trouble than I care to remember.
I try to live in the moment. I try to just go with the flow and be a man riding the ebb and flow of whatever situation, but I’m getting too old for that crap. It’s a struggle not to let my imagination run wild over the course of an imaginary relationship. I want one of these blue line beauties to see me and imagine how wonderful our lives could be and convince me that it’s not all doom and gloom at relationship station.
But I do like riding the blue line train. I think I’ll have to do it more in the summer.