4 a.m. Streetcar…
I’m trying to buy a ticket at the dispenser. I hear her before I see her. That voice of despair. “You got a dollar, sir?”
It’s too fucking early for this; so I stop trying to buy the ticket in a dispenser that isn’t taking my change.
I bounce to the back of the empty train and bury my face in a book. I hear her coming.
“Did you call me a bitch?”
“I didn’t say anything to you! I don’t want to listen to you. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“You look familiar. I know your face.”
She’s not as old as she looks. It appears she has one tooth left. She has the look of defeat. I get up and move past her to the front of a streetcar. I soon exit.
I question myself for not having more compassion and acknowledging that this city chews people up…
The next bus is filled with early morning workers. It’s 4:35 a.m. No one looks happy.
Back to my book.
Dennis Mantin 
Dennis, what a perfect description of urban commuting. And the REAL question for Tubularsock is always isn’t the “worker-slaves” really worse off than the one tooth woman that is her own boss?
But Tubularsock too got plenty of reading done on buses and subways. Like a moving library away from home.
Really enjoy your work.
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Thank you!
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