These days I've been riding the light rail quite frequently. With gas prices rising and a sweet incentives program from St. Joe's, it's hard not to. On these trips most often I get to read, however I am easily sent into fit of motion sickness when the driver of the train insists on driving like he received his permit yesterday. In that case I get to people watch. Behind the safety of my Coach sunglasses I watch college students cramming 20 more minutes of studying in before their final, the weird guy who unsuccessfully attempts to pick his nose so no one else notices, and my personal favorite the mentally unstable.
As of late I have started practicing Bikram Yoga and my studio happens to be near a light rail stop. Today I rode the rail to class and back. After class I decided to shower in the comfort of home so I could shave my legs. Despite changing, my hair was still soaking wet and I had started to perspire into the second t-shirt when I boarded the east bound train headed back to our apartment. All that laughing under my breath caught up with me this moment. I became the object to ogle. My tomato colored face was still pulsing from class adorned with frizzy hair in a messy bun on the top of my head. My scent was intensely penetrating three seats away in either direction evidenced by the homeless man looking my way with a look that seemed to say "dear Jesus, I thought I had it bad".
In order to get the car I had to pass one bus stop after disembarking the train. Looking ahead I could spot two men in their late twenties, one pacing, obviously anxious about the arrival of the next bus and the other muttering a quick jibberish under his breath. I have never actually seen anyone strung out on a drug made in a bathtub, but these two made it easy to imagine. Eyes fixed firmly ahead, the plan was not to make eye contact or any friendly gesture toward either of them thus inviting an approach. As I quickened my pace, the seated man yelled out at me. Sticking to the plan I did not look in any direction other than straight and continued in a fast walk. My capri pants were riding up giving me a wedgie, sweat covered the back of my shirt, and my face was on fire. Desperate the man yelled out "You are beautiful!". If I wasn't so terrified I may have stopped to contemplate this. I imagined the look on his companion's face after hearing his declaration, and then heard my admirer say to him "what?! she is beautiful".
and then I smiled.
After sweating and concentrating and bending and stretching I had a clear mind and a pink face.
And I felt beautiful.
you are beautiful.
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