i really don't know where this piece goes.

S5000232
Originally uploaded by faultyplans

"The lady on the end over there... do you see her?"
"Excuse me?" A pause, a quick glimpse to the right and an umm. "Which one?"
This gentlemen next to me wore a brown suit. So 1950's. So why are you talking to me older freaky man. Who is he? God, his mustache looks horrible.
"Over there, there is a woman, wearing red and black. Do you see, she has a huge handbag?"
All i saw was the hobo at the end of the aisle, he had a red and black grocery bag. The new kind of grocery bags you get, where you pay two dollars to have some fabric that will be used for only grocery use over and over. It was black with a red logo. GR Beebee's. The black was faded, holes scattered here and there, but the red was as crisp as ever.
"She's a hottie right?"
I look over at this guy, his bushy mustache. His bad teeth and scrubbily facial hair. Obviously a vagrant. Nice clothing though, but not so nice hygiene. Ever get some Christmas gift with a really nice looking wrap-job around it - shiny blue glistening wrapping paper kind of thing - and you open it up to find a dollar store gift card? Same thing.
"God, please help me," he says, "she's got my blood boiling." He reaches over and pats my knee as he laughs. He's really starting to trip me out over here. He leans back over to he side of the aisle and fiddles with a broken cellphone. When I got a glimpse of his eye, i saw his pupils were huge. Big black balls sitting on top of some hazel green rings. My stop is soon, but not soon enough. He leans back forward, signalling he wants to speak again. I lean in.
"You don't think she's gorgeous?"
"Umm, I'm not seeing it."
The hobo at the end shifts around a little, and notice us gawking at him. It's not alright to stare, and I lean back and put my chin to my chest. Incoming sigh and exhale.
From the other end of the car comes a shout and the hobo stands up. The guy across from me flinches and balls into a fetal position on his subway seat. The few heads still in the car look over at this guy sitting across from me, but not at the hobo.
"Compliments to a pretty lady!" he yells back. "I just thought she was pretty," he smirked and curled his head into his protective ball.
Finally my stop arrives and the guy at the other end of the car, with his black and red tote exit to the right.

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I can't believe some people. If I were a woman as pretty as her, I'd love the attention. I fidget, it's normal. Thinking thinking think. Thought! Oh, he was a nice boy. I should've given him my number before he got of the train. Where is this train going? I don't understand though, why didn't he think that lady was pretty. I mean, I can understand that the handbag was a little gaudy, but that woman was fine. Bet she can cook too. Where's my stop? Logan, Wyoming, Hunting Park. 1, to the 3, four five and Fairmount! Seven more stops. The floor is amusing. Speckled gum and rubber shoes streaks. I gotta get off this train. This train. Trains. Samuel L. Jackson, god I love black people!