The 9:16 was pretty full this morning. I took an aisle seat in a four-seater, hoping I’d get to keep the leg room and unobstructed view for the remainder of the ride.
Alas, a young man took the seat across from me, though the two window seats were more open than Tony Gonzalez against the Jets secondary yesterday.
He was about 20, black, wearing a baseball hat and jeans.
Right away he makes eye contact and starts chatting. Ten seconds in, and he’s broken every unwritten rule of commuting.
“Can’t believe it’s almost Christmas,” he says. “It feels like it was just summer.”
I turn down my iPod and nod.
“Time goes so fast,” he says.
I fold my Times Business section and smile.
The guy then tells me he knows what he’s doing for New Year’s: giving his girl an expensive necklace. I tease him about getting her a ring and he smiles. He’s got a pleasant way about him.
He tells me he splits time between a parent in Pleasantville (I guess that explains his pleasantness) and his girl in Far Rockaway; the Metro-North/subway trip can take as much as three hours, he said.
We engaged in (very) small talk until North White Plains.
There was a lull. I slid my earbuds back in and picked up my Times again.
At White Plains, he wordlessly got off.
I kept the legroom and unobstructed view the rest of the ride.