The people in my car on the 6:10 yesterday.
Thank you.
I don’t say it enough, so I’ll say it again. Thank you.
We were in one of those mini-cars separated from the rest of the car by the vestibule. I had my own 2-seater. Across the aisle, two women in what looked like covered up beach gear (?) chatted quietly while leafing through a glossy magazine that featured lots of cleavage.
A middle-aged guy who had an iPod-type thing in a fancy case read a printout about diets and nodded to the music, occasionally punctuating dramatic sections of songs with one-handed air drumming.
An Indian man read USA Today and whispered briefly into his phone when it vibrated.
A guy in trim gray hair thumbed through his Blackberry. The guy across from him, in a light green golf shirt, played with his laptop. (A dubious sartorial statement, perhaps.)
There was hardly a peep from any of you, no clangorous jar of your mobile phones.
You’re all exemplars of the commuter class.
So thank you.
–Trainjotting