People I'm Next To

I'm next to this girl. She has a red hoodie on under a tan jacket, jean and white sneakers. Her hair is dirty blond. I always feel weird about that color designation. It sounds mean, but I don't have a better color for it. She is sitting next to a group of people arguing about the grammies. At first she is silent. Her friends are not fans of Lady Gaga. They are upset about an egg, and a song that sounds like another song. I didn't, don't watch the grammies so I am confused, but like I am listening to an inside joke, so I understand why I am confused. Red Hoodie catches my eye as someone else on the outside. She is listening to the conversation with a dead stare in her eye. My initial thought is its the glaze of apathy, and that she is waiting for the conversation to switch to something she cares about. But as it turns out thats just the face she makes when her brain is working. That 9 pound idea factory is getting ready to turn out a doozie. There is an alm

I'm next to this girl. She has a red hoodie on under a tan jacket, jean and white sneakers. Her hair is dirty blond. I always feel weird about that color designation. It sounds mean, but I don't have a better color for it. She is sitting next to a group of people arguing about the grammies. At first she is silent. Her friends are not fans of Lady Gaga. They are upset about an egg, and a song that sounds like another song. I didn't, don't watch the grammies so I am confused, but like I am listening to an inside joke, so I understand why I am confused. Red Hoodie catches my eye as someone else on the outside. She is listening to the conversation with a dead stare in her eye. My initial thought is its the glaze of apathy, and that she is waiting for the conversation to switch to something she cares about. But as it turns out thats just the face she makes when her brain is working. That 9 pound idea factory is getting ready to turn out a doozie. There is an alm

I'm next to this guy. He has on a red flannel shirt, a slouchy winter hat, jeans, and big thick framed glasses. He is loudly discussing a band with a group of people. I don't think he is projecting on purpose, I think he just has a loud voice. Maybe he has a hearing problem. Maybe his mom had a hearing problem and he grew up having to strain to have her hear him. Maybe he has had a chronic throat disease his whole life, but recently had a successful operation and hasn't learned how to use his inside voice yet. Whatever the reason, he gains my attention through his volume. He keeps my attention by pulling his glasses off in a strange fashion. He places his fingers through his right lens. It takes me a moment to realize this guy doesn't have lenses in the frames. They are a fashion accessory. I want to step past the sheer immediate silliness of this. I'm sure plenty of fashion statements seemed ridiculous at first, before becoming common place. Here's t

I'm next to these two Men. I can tell they are Men, with capitals because one is a security guard, and one has a load of sports paraphernalia draped across his person. He is like a billboard for physical activity, with ironically round edges. By this I mean he is a little chubby, they both are. Also they both have military style buzz cuts. The security guard is at work, and his friend is keeping him company, I am walking past them when their conversation sparks my interest. I pretend to tie my shoe to get a quick listen. "...and you know what she said to me? She said," The security guard pauses, and places and outraged hand on his chest, "She said I have some growing up to do. Can you believe that?" "She did not!," replies the outraged chubby sports fan. He gasps, before and after. "She did! Me! I mean I have a job, I have my army stuff, I have responsibilities. You know what I think." "I think I do," the sports fan chimes